


How to tame a Marauder

by melian225



Series: How to tame a Marauder [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Coming of Age, Community: HPFT, Drama & Romance, Eventual Romance, F/M, Humor, Humour, Marauders Friendship, Marauders' Era, Slow Burn, Teen Romance, Wizarding Wars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-19
Updated: 2017-01-19
Packaged: 2018-08-15 22:17:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 60
Words: 284,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8074987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melian225/pseuds/melian225
Summary: As Sirius led me around the room, I took a deep breath and looked up at him firmly.“So, was it a bet or a dare?”“What are you talking about?” he asked, shiftily enough to tell me my guess had been right. When his eyes drifted to where James was sitting by the far wall, I grinned.“Don’t play dumb. We both know you’d never ask me to dance in a million years. Not with ninety-five percent of the girls here gagging for it, and, well, I’m not. Besides, Potter just gave you the thumbs up.”He groaned. “Are we really that obvious? Okay, yes, it was a dare.”





	1. Return to Hogwarts

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s note: This story is structured as a coming-of-age story rather than a traditional romance, so if it seems to take a little while to get going, that's why. (Or, at least, that's my excuse.) I have kept as close to canon as I can all the way through, though I can't guarantee it's all correct and I admit to a couple of tangents which need a little poetic licence to fit properly.
> 
> This is the third place I have posted the fic, and if you Google it you will find it on HPFF and on FF dot net, dated about 2011. Since that time extra information has been released about the HP universe via things like _Pottermore_ , _Cursed Child_ and little tidbits that JKR has let slip. In that time I as an author have also become more picky, and parts of the story that are up elsewhere make me cringe. Rather than going through and editing it on both other sites, though, I have decided to post what I am intending will be the final and definitive version here, updated with the new canon and tidied up somewhat. You are of course most welcome to check out the previous versions, but this is my preferred one.
> 
> Thanks, Mel xxx
> 
> Disclaimer: OCs and plot belong to me, but everything you recognise is the marvellous work of JK Rowling.

 

 

“Bye, Laura! Have a good term!”

“Bye Mum! Bye Dad!! See you at Christmas!” I waved to my parents as the scarlet-engined Hogwarts Express took off. They smiled sadly, always a bit upset when the first of September came around and their usually noisy house became quiet once more as my sister Beatrice and I left for school. I could see them looking for her on the train as well, but Beatrice had already forgotten them and was settled somewhere down the train with her group of oddball friends. At least Bea was now in her final year – next September would not be quite so hard on our parents.

Beatrice was a bit of a difficult sister to have. Two and a half years older, she was extremely intelligent – genius level in fact – but, as if to compensate, had no social skills whatsoever. Whoever handed out the small talk gene in the birth lottery had missed her entirely. To get around any awkward situations she found herself in – and there were a tidy few, let me tell you – she started hexing people at a young age, and since then had hidden behind that. At Hogwarts, where she was Sorted into Ravenclaw (where else?), she had found a couple of other kids just as odd as herself, and they had a wonderful time lost in their own little world, inventing spells that did weird things to people like making them sprout antlers or speak in Spanish for an hour.

Needless to say, Bea was not particularly popular. She got herself pretty well known from the start, not always for the right reasons, so when I started at Hogwarts two years later my arrival was surrounded by speculation that I’d be just like her.

Fortunately for me I wasn’t Bea Mark II, something the Sorting Hat recognised when it put me in Gryffindor. Why there, I wasn’t entirely sure, but maybe it thought I was brave for actually coming to a school where my sister was so universally disliked. (My dad’s family had traditionally been in Hufflepuff, so the Cauldwells had now been represented in every House bar Slytherin.) I was, however, somewhat stigmatised for the simple fact of being Bea’s sister, and I spent a lot of time trying to sort out her skirmishes.

This year, I was hopeful the train journey would, by Bea’s standards, be uneventful. There is after all only so much time you can spend trying to smooth over someone else’s indiscretions. In any case she was at one end of the train and I was deliberately down the other, so with any luck I would get through most of it unneeded.

As we pulled out of the station I turned to my best friend Mary Macdonald, who was sitting opposite. Mary was a displaced Scot, in that she was born in Scotland and lived there until the summer between second and third years, when her father died and her mother moved the family to London to be closer to her parents. Mary and her brother Andrew had held on to their Scottishness for as long as possible, but despite their best efforts – and retention of the strongest accent I’d ever heard – they were eventually assimilated into greater British wizarding society. I often used the Macdonalds’ house as a base when I had to go to London from my home in Bristol, to buy school supplies and the like.

A few girls who looked like they were about to start third year joined the compartment and jabbered away happily among themselves. Mary grinned at me. “So, Laura, tell me. Did Beatrice star’ talkin’ t’ ye agin?”

I laughed. Bea had given me the silent treatment at the start of the holidays because I got a higher mark in Charms than she did. She was more than a little competitive – the previous year she had single-handedly caused the near demise of the Gobstones Club by alienating everyone who had joined because they just enjoyed playing Gobstones.

“Eventually,” I said. “But only under sufferance. Mum said she wouldn’t buy her any new records until she apologised for behaving like a child. And you know how Bea loves her Muggle music.”

That was my mother’s doing. As a Muggle, she liked to make sure we were up to date with Muggle culture by giving us books and magazines, taking us to films when she had time and buying the occasional record. Bea had taken to Queen’s music and even had a poster of Freddie Mercury on her bedroom wall – though not her dorm, as she didn’t want her magical friends to know about this very Muggle obsession.

Mary giggled. “I can imagine,” she said. “My holidays were alright. Didn’ ge’ prefect, o’ course. Ma’s a wee bi’ disappointed bu’ there was no way I was goin’ t’ ge’ it, no’ realistically, an’ deep doon I think she knew tha’.” She pushed her long dark hair out of her eyes and smiled ruefully.

“If it’s any consolation I didn’t get it either. But then again my mum wasn’t Head Girl.” My mother, of course, hadn’t even attended Hogwarts. Mary’s mother on the other hand had been a brilliant student in her day; her name was all over the awards in the school trophy room with Charms prizes and the like. Unfortunately for Mary, while she’d inherited her mum’s strong work ethic, she missed out on some of her brains and was, like me, near the middle of the class.

“I expec’ Charlotte go’ the badge,” said Mary. “Tha’s okay. I’m happy bein’ where I am. A’ leas’ I don’ have tha’ responsibility. One less thing t’ have t’ think aboot, especially durin’ OWLs.”

I shook my head. “Actually it was Lily. I saw her on the platform, she was already in her robes and she definitely had the badge on. We’ll probably see her patrolling the train any minute now.”

Mary shrugged. “Same diff. Lily, Charlotte, Martha, any one o’ them coul’ have go’ it. Though Lily – I don’ know, I woul’ have thought her habit o’ talkin’ back t’ the teachers coul’ have worked again’ her.”

“Yeah, but she picks her targets. Only people like Slughorn who indulge her. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her talking back to McGonagall, for instance.”

“Aye, good poin’,” she said. “No’ worth worrying aboot now, anyway, is it?”

The other Gryffindor girls starting fifth year were Lily Evans, Martha Hornby and Charlotte Trimble. I liked them a lot – they had everything going for them, looks, brains, humour and compassion. Lily in particular really was one of the world’s beautiful people. But that was just it. Not only were Mary and I not in the same league as them, but we weren’t even in the same hemisphere. There was no dislike or even envy, just a recognition they were different from us – and it wasn’t just because they were English and we weren’t, Mary being Scottish and me Welsh. We did share a dorm, however, and that, if nothing else, meant they knew us and were happy to talk to us, and sometimes we got along very well – though if we’d been in different Houses, I had my doubts whether they would have even known our names.

“Which of the boys do you think would have got prefect?” I asked almost rhetorically. The four Gryffindor boys in our year were renowned troublemakers – it was almost a shame one of them had to be a prefect, though no one seriously thought it would put a halt to their antics.

“Remus,” Mary said immediately. “Peter’s go’ no leadership qualities whatsoever, an’ the other two spend too much time in detention t’ be real contenders.”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” I said, then changed the subject. “I’m getting hungry, I didn’t have much breakfast. Do you want to see if we can find the food trolley?”

Pulling out our money pouches, we wandered down the train looking for the trolley witch. Halfway through the second carriage, however, we were bowled over by two boys who had just been pushed out of a compartment.

“Oh, sorry!” said the first, a brown-haired boy in our year called Remus Lupin. I didn’t know him as well as perhaps I should, given he was one of only two other Welsh people in our year group (or half Welsh, in Remus’ case; the other was a rather unpleasant Slytherin girl called Scylla Pritchard), but I did find him reasonably easy to talk to. The other boy, a pudgy thing with colourless hair named Peter Pettigrew, just looked embarrassed as he tried to disentangle himself from us.

As I pulled myself up I saw the perpetrators laughing at the pile of bodies. James Potter and Sirius Black, the two most popular boys in the school – and the best looking. When we’d discovered boys, so to speak, in about second or third year, we’d found their extreme good looks more than a little intimidating. We were pretty much immune to them by now, having spent practically every day in their presence in the years since, but every now and then you still noticed it. Never mind that they were only in fifth year, they still had older students hanging off their every word and, in the cases of some girls, trying to hang off their arms as well. They knew it as well, adding a little reality to the equation: no one could be that blessed and not have it go to their heads.

“Girls, girls,” Sirius sighed with mock exasperation. He was tall and somewhat haughty-looking with features best described as aristocratic, a natural elegance and longish black hair that fell into his eyes, a haircut Mary derisively referred to as ‘Musketeer-style’. “We know we’re irresistible, but you really don’t have to fall at our feet quite so obviously.”

“Absolutely,” said James, who was just as tall as Sirius, also with dark hair, but his was shorter and stuck up at the back by itself, I suspected with his encouragement. He also wore glasses, which if anything added to his charm, though he was probably a touch too pretty for my taste. “There are easier ways to get our attention.”

We had by now extricated ourselves from the tangle of limbs on the floor, and Mary groaned. “I’m really no’ in the mood, lads. _Tarantallegra_.” The spell hit James on the chest, causing him to do a kind of tap dance around the compartment.

We giggled to each other and wandered away, looking over our shoulders at them. I caught the glint of a prefect badge on Remus’ robes – we’d been right about that one.

Before we reached the end of the carriage we heard Sirius call out. “Oi! Macdonald!” Mary turned around. “You know I can’t let you get away with that,” he said, a cocky grin on his face.

Well, we’d expected nothing less – you didn’t hex James Potter and not suffer any consequences. If he didn’t get you back in one way or another, one of his friends would. In this case, Sirius pointed his wand at Mary and drew it up slowly. Without him saying anything, she rose into the air until her head was banging softly on the ceiling. Bringing her down a little, he rotated his wand and she did two full three hundred and sixty degree turns, quite quickly, before he brought her to a halt and released her. “I thought of leaving you upside down,” he said with a smirk, “but you’re not in your robes yet so it’s not nearly so much fun.” He looked pointedly at her jeans.

I was gaping at him. “You can do non-verbal spells?” We weren’t due to start learning those for another year.

He shrugged, making even that look elegant. “So?” he asked, like it was nothing, and turned back into his compartment.

Did I mention he and James were also two of the smartest kids in school? Some people have all the luck.

****

The beginning of the school year was always a bustle of activity. On the first morning our Head of House and Transfiguration teacher, Professor McGonagall, walked along our table in the Great Hall handing out timetables. Mary and I, who had chosen almost all the same subjects as each other, consulted them eagerly.

“Double Potions wi’ Slytherins firs’ thing,” Mary groaned. Lily, who was sitting opposite, smiled to herself, her sparkling green eyes darting over to the Slytherin table.

Martha had noticed it. “I don’t know why you’re friends with him, Lils. He’s a nasty piece of work.” I knew who she was talking about – Severus Snape, Slytherin, and all-round generally creepy boy. He had a reputation for hexing people for no good reason and, even in first year, had known (and used) more curses than half of the seventh-years. For some reason Lily had always been friendly with him, despite his enthusiasm for the Dark Arts and seeming willingness to use them. The people he most often hung around with, fellow Slytherins Charon Avery and Irving Mulciber, were also known for their fondness for the Dark Arts. People who didn’t like him much – so, most of the school who weren’t Slytherins – had taken to calling him ‘Snivellus’.

Lily shook her head, sending a wave of dark red hair flying around her face. “No, he’s just misunderstood. Do you really think I would have been friends with him for so long if he was as bad as you make out?” She looked sternly at Martha. “And I don’t know how I would have got started in Potions if he hadn’t been helping me out.”

Martha and Charlotte rolled their eyes. “Lily, you are _brilliant_ at Potions,” Charlotte said, pushing her glasses up her nose. “I don’t care what you say, even if you never spoke to him you would still be brilliant at Potions.”

“Yes, but at the start I’d have been completely lost, coming from a Muggle family and everything. He held my hand all through that first year when I didn’t know whether I was coming or going.”

Martha faked a choke on her bacon and eggs. “Sure it was just your hand, Lils? I get the feeling he’d like to hold onto more of you than that.”

“No, we’re just friends,” Lily said, blushing furiously and shaking her head again.

“Just as well,” said James Potter, who was two places down and had obviously been listening in. “’Cause if Snivellus laid one greasy finger on you, I’d curse him into next week.”

James had had a crush on Lily since third year, but he’d only asked her out maybe three or four times, probably because each time she put him down so scathingly that in all likelihood he needed a week to nurse his ego back to its usual substantial proportions. In fact, she was one of the only people at the school who could get away with jinxing him without retaliation. I knew she didn’t hate him as much as she made out – some of that charm had to get through, and he definitely laid it on thick when she was around – but she did think him a mite arrogant, and was waiting for that to settle down a bit.

“Oh, you would, would you?” Lily’s eyes flashed angrily. “Well, Potter, this may have escaped your notice but I’m a prefect now, and if you even try to do that I’ll take points from you quicker than you can say Quidditch. Yes, from my own House. So don’t push me!” She pushed her empty plate away, got up from the table and swept out of the Great Hall.

“Don’t think that one worked, mate,” Sirius Black said dryly from his seat opposite James. “Maybe you shouldn’t be threatening to hex her friends to her face. Just an idea.” He shovelled some scrambled eggs into his mouth, shrugging at James who was staring, stunned, at Lily’s empty seat.

“But it’s _Snivellus_! Can’t she see what a greasy git he is?” James sounded genuinely confused.

“But he is her friend,” said the measured voice of Remus Lupin, who was on the other side of James. “I think Sirius is right. Pick on someone else for a change.”

James pouted stubbornly. “You mean I have to get through a double Potions lesson without once doing anything to Snivellus? That’s a huge ask!”

“You’re right, it is a huge ask,” Sirius conceded. “Well then, at least make sure she doesn’t know it’s you.” He grinned, helping himself to more bacon and wolfing it down hungrily.

“Yeah, they sit at the front anyway, so they won’t be able to see you,” said Peter from his spot next to Sirius. Martha and Charlotte rolled their eyes.

“You lot are lucky we don’t like him either, otherwise we’d tell Lils what you’re up to,” Martha said, flashing a brilliant smile at Sirius as she pushed her empty plate away from her. “Come on, Charlotte, let’s go get what we need for today.” They got up from the table and sauntered off, their long hair bouncing behind them.

Sirius turned his head to watch them leave, absent-mindedly chewing on a piece of toast and paying so little attention to his surroundings that Peter waved a hand in front of his face, saying, “Earth to Sirius, Earth to Sirius.” Distracted, Sirius scowled and pretended to concentrate on his still overloaded plate.

Mary and I looked at each other, the empty space between us and the boys meaning we could see and hear everything they said. Mary was clearly doing all she could not to laugh. “Martha an’ Sirius?” she mouthed silently at me. I jerked my head towards the door, signalling that we too should leave the Hall.

“Well, that’s different from last term, to say the least,” I muttered as we headed towards the marble staircase that led to the upper floors of the castle. “They couldn’t stomach each other then. Wonder what happened to change that?”

It was true. Sirius and Martha had been at loggerheads for much of fourth year, apparently a result of her taunting him about his family, with whom it was rumoured he didn’t get along. I didn’t know a lot about the Blacks, being half Muggle and all, but Mary was from an old wizarding family and had heard all sorts of stories about them and their pure-blood mania. She had explained this to me in first year, when I was confused by the shocked silence in the Great Hall when Sirius was Sorted into Gryffindor – the first of the Blacks not to be in Slytherin. Anyway, Martha had got into an argument with him just after the Christmas break, when she had implied he wasn’t as different from them as he liked to make out and the world didn’t stop revolving just because a Black had asked it to. He had none-too-subtly suggested she get her facts straight before spouting off about things she knew nothing about, and the resultant screaming match had ended with her ears growing to about ten times their usual size and his hair turning pink, curly and cascading down his back. The ensuing feud had lasted at least until the train ride home at the end of the year, when they’d had a hex battle in the corridor.

Martha and Sirius continued flirting with each other throughout the day, like they had reached an unspoken understanding that the new aim was to snog each other senseless. It was baffling, to say the least, but it at least provided an entertaining alternative to James and Severus trying to hex each other into oblivion, each trying to outdo the other in an effort to win Lily’s affections.

James, true to expectations, hadn’t managed to get through double Potions without trying to sabotage Snape’s Draught of Peace, but realised he had failed dismally when Professor Slughorn, the Potions master, started waxing lyrical about the perfect silver vapour billowing out of Snape’s cauldron. Severus was easily as good at Potions as Lily was and I was sure they were comparing notes, the way they kept whispering together throughout the class.

James’ potion, on the other hand, was grey and a little gluggy, which was only somewhat better than mine. While he had undoubtedly been distracted, I couldn’t help but think that, in this class at least, he had nothing on Severus.

****

The mystery of Martha and Sirius was solved later that night, when all five of us were in the dormitory getting ready for bed. I was bursting with curiosity but didn’t feel like I knew Martha well enough to ask, or even how to ask, what the sudden about-face in behaviour meant. Charlotte, luckily, had no such qualms.

“Oi, Martha,” she said, throwing a towel through the bathroom door at her.

Martha looked at her, toothbrush in mouth. “What?”

“What’s going on with Sirius? Long story or not, you promised to tell us tonight!”

“Absolutely, ’fess up,” Lily said.

Martha went red, turning her back to us to both rinse out her mouth and hide her glowing cheeks. After splashing some water over her face, she came back into the dormitory.

Charlotte and Lily were both staring her down. “Well?” Lily prompted, after Martha didn’t say anything straight away. “We thought you two hated each other!”

“We don’t hate each other. We just had a – misunderstanding.” Martha looked around the dorm, her gaze briefly resting on Mary and I, sitting on Mary’s bed, noting we would to be part of the conversation too. “My dad found out about what had happened, I think McGonagall must have written to him after I sent Sirius to the hospital wing that time. One too many detentions for hexing people, probably.”

Charlotte giggled, a reminiscent look on her face. One of Martha’s jinxes had gone haywire and Sirius had come down with a nasty combination of octopus tentacles sprouting from his face, a missing nose and a muscular bind, where he couldn’t move his upper body. In the end they sent him to Madam Pomfrey in the hospital wing and she had, after much trial and error, managed to undo the damage.

“Anyway,” Martha said, warming to the task, “Mum and Dad sat me down and gave me a long lecture on stereotyping people. Apparently Mum went to school with Sirius’ folks and she gave me a rundown on the sorts of things they used to do and say to people, particularly Muggle-borns and half-bloods.” She looked at Lily and then me as she took a deep breath and went on. “She made me tell her exactly what Sirius had done, and I realised it was nothing like what used to happen in her day, and nothing like what Sirius must have been brought up to believe. She said that to even be Sorted into Gryffindor he must be really different from that, and, well, I couldn’t say anything. Because it was all true. I felt so ashamed of myself. So then they both sat me down and made me write to him to apologise.” She was now sitting on her bed, silent tears forming in her eyes.

“He was really nice about it,” she said finally, breaking into a grin when she saw the dubious look on Lily’s face. “Yeah, I was surprised too. It was only because I wouldn’t admit I was wrong that he kept it up all that time. He was angry with me because I refused to see what should have been obvious. So when I wrote and apologised, he wrote back, saying he forgave me and by apologising I was becoming a bigger person. So I wrote this really flirty and suggestive letter back, never intending to send it, but just to make me feel better. I never even finished it. Unfortunately Mum found it in my room and, thinking I’d forgotten to send it, gave it to Lechuza – our owl,” she explained, seeing Mary’s confused look, “and – well – he read it. ’Course, he’d just had that other letter so he’d know my handwriting, even though I hadn’t signed it. So I had three options – pretend it didn’t happen, get horribly embarrassed, or go along with it.”

Lily was getting red-faced from trying not to laugh, while Charlotte abandoned all pretence and thumped her mattress in appreciation.

Martha grinned suddenly, a mischievous twinkle in her damp eyes. “I figured the potential benefits of going along with it were far greater than any alternative,” she said. “I mean, Sirius Black! If he went along with it … wow! I couldn’t do much better, could I?”

“True,” Charlotte said. “He’s quite a catch, I must admit. Rich, too, everyone knows the Blacks are loaded.” She paused. “Pity his ego is larger than a Hungarian Horntail.”

“And just as dangerous,” said Lily. “Between him and James …”

I smiled as I headed back to my own bed. Trust her to bring James into it. That denial thing just wasn’t as convincing as it had once been.

“It seems to be working, though,” said Martha, grinning even more broadly. “Proves it definitely was worth a shot!”

Lily shook her head, though she was smiling. “Just watch out,” she said in a warning tone. “You’ll be doubly on Dione’s radar now.”

Dione Turpin, from Ravenclaw, was a nasty piece of work. She had a habit of launching character attacks against anyone – or really, any girl – she saw as a threat or felt inferior to, never needing anything as irrelevant as evidence to back up her claims. She was very effective in this because, while spiteful, she was remarkably subtle. Her attacks were always out of vision and earshot of any of the boys, to the extent I didn’t think they even knew about them, and as a result she was perceived by many to be a lovely person. No wonder she was in Ravenclaw: you’d have to be really smart to pull off a split personality like that. The Headmaster had even been taken in enough to make her a prefect.

Dione’s attacks were mostly jaw, all talk and little action, and it was uncommon to see her actually jinxing anyone. This was quite possibly one of her smartest moves, as it was much harder to undo damage to someone’s reputation than to remove bicorn horns from their head. (There was that Ravenclaw thing again.)

Fortunately for me I was well outside her radar – as a Cauldwell there was never any possibility she might feel inferior to me, as having Bea as a sister was more than enough to lump me well at the bottom of the social hierarchy. People like Lily, Martha and Charlotte, however, were prime targets, and especially after Lily too received a prefect’s badge she was singled out even more than she had been previously.

It had to be jealousy, of course, as there was nothing about Lily not to like. But she was beautiful and gifted and had half the boys in the year drooling over her, and Dione had taken exception to this. The rivalry had been going on since about second year, but it seemed to be hitting new heights.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Dione muttered as Lily walked past. “SHE’s a prefect? Dumbledore must really be scraping the bottom of the barrel, picking someone who has to copy all her work from the books in the library in order to pass.”

“Does she really?” asked Gertie Cresswell, her partner in crime. “Wow, I didn’t know that. We really should tell someone. Hey, do you think Elvira knows?”

And so it would start. I was never convinced Gertie felt any real malice towards Lily (or anyone else Dione was targeting), but she would generally do her bit in spreading the rumours anyway, possibly just to keep the peace.

Mary seemed to share this impression. “Ye know, Laura,” she said one day, watching them, “I’m no’ sure tha’ Gertie even believes Dione these days.”

“She probably doesn’t,” I said. “She’s fine with Lily and the rest of them when Dione’s not around, it’s just when she’s in full flight that Gertie goes along with it.”

“Prob’ly scared o’ her.”

“Well, would you blame her if she was? _I_ certainly wouldn’t want Dione as an enemy.”

“Aye, goo’ poin’,” Mary said with a grin. “Well, she is in Ravenclaw so she’d have t’ be smart, maybe this is her way o’ showin’ it.”

Luckily for Lily, she was so well regarded that hardly anyone believed Dione’s allegations. Eventually those in the know started ignoring them altogether and began referring to them as Turpin Tales, a label enthusiastically adopted by their victims.

Martha, as Lily had predicted, was the first target of the year (apparently her luscious golden hair was in fact a wig from Madam Primpernelle’s), once it became clear by the end of the first week of term that she Sirius were an item. Every now and then I would notice her gazing dreamily off into the distance during classes, or sneaking away during breaks to grab a quick snog. They didn’t stop hanging around with their respective friends, though, and from what Martha said when she finally made it into the dorm late at night they never actually got around to doing much talking. They were, however, very much the golden couple, the ones everyone wanted to emulate, which wasn’t at all surprising considering, as Mary had said earlier, they were both gorgeous. It was the gossip of the school for a couple of weeks – until one day it wasn’t.


	2. Crime and punishment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The war begins to rear its ugly head.

“Has anyone seen him?”

“Who’s missing?”

“You know, that second-year from Ravenclaw, the blond kid who nearly made the Quidditch team. The one who tried out for Seeker.”

“Does anyone know where he might be?”

Term was about four weeks old when the whispers started on a Saturday night. The boy in question was Lenny Dodderidge, and he’d been missing since before lunch. Professor Flitwick, the Charms master who was also Head of Ravenclaw House, was alerted and a full scale search of the castle took place. After several hours they found Lenny with Charon Avery in one of the dungeons, where Charon had decided to use the younger boy, who was Muggle-born, to practice the Cruciatus (or torture) Curse on. This curse was one of the three ‘Unforgivables’, the use of any of which would normally result in a trip to Azkaban, the wizard prison.

Avery, from Slytherin, was another nasty piece of work, being from one of the old pure-blood families who thought Voldemort had it right. For the uninitiated, Lord Voldemort was the title the latest wizarding hatemonger had given himself. He was waging war on Muggle-borns and half-bloods, claiming only those with pure blood were worthy of learning the skills of magic, and everyone else was an impostor and not worth wiping your feet on. You get the general idea.

Most people were horrified by the undercurrent of ignorance and hatred Voldemort inspired and thrived on – after all, the last major wizarding war had ended only thirty years before with the defeat of Grindelwald, and now here was some new upstart trying to dredge it all up again. Not that anyone dared say that out loud, of course. Voldemort and his select group of thugs, known as Death Eaters, had managed to inspire such fear among the community, with random Muggle killings and attacks on the ‘unworthy’, all of which ended with his signature emblem emblazoned in the sky above the scene of the crime, that many people were unwilling to speak his name: he was increasingly known as ‘You-Know-Who’ or ‘He Who Must Not Be Named’.

As one of Voldemort’s followers, Avery thought people like me, Peter and Remus (half-bloods) or Lily (Muggle-born) were the scum of the earth. Of course, we were in the same year as he was, which meant we had the same amount of magical training, so he didn’t target us. No, Avery wasn’t one to pick a fight with someone his own size, choosing instead to find a Muggle-born in one of the junior years and have a go at cursing them. (He always was a particularly brave type.)

Fortunately for Lenny, Charon wasn’t as good at the Dark Arts as he thought. While he succeeded in inflicting a reasonable amount of pain on the younger boy, he didn’t have enough power or ability to actually torture him the way the curse intended. Lenny spent a week or two in the hospital wing under the watchful eye of the Matron, Madam Pomfrey, and came out pretty much as good as new.

“I’m surprised Avery didn’ ge’ expelled,” Mary said at supper that night, as we watched Lenny takes his place at the Ravenclaw table. Because Lenny had suffered no permanent damage, Avery was indeed allowed to stay on at Hogwarts – though he had to spend four months in detention and be accompanied by a teacher everywhere he went for a long time.

“I don’t know,” I said, considering. “Dumbledore’s known for giving people second chances, isn’t he? I mean, there have been some pretty awful things happen in the past few years, and no one’s been kicked out yet. Not Unforgivables, I admit, but still …”

I wasn’t kidding. Two years previously some seventh-year Slytherins called Jugson and Crabbe had made a crusade of bullying young Muggle-born students, not to the extent of actual torture but certainly making their lives difficult (for example, hanging them off the Astronomy tower in their underwear in the middle of winter, with no wands), and more than one of their victims had decided to abandon the magical world entirely as a result. And the year before that another Slytherin named Thorfinn Rowle, who had since been confirmed as a Death Eater, got in a lot of trouble for trying to perfect the Entrail-Expelling Curse, which it was suspected he had planned to use on some Muggles or Muggle-borns. None of these people were expelled.

Mary sighed. “Aye, ye’re right. Though he mus’ have convinced Dumbledore tha’ he won’ do it again, an’ we all know Dumbledore can tell when ye’re lyin’.”

“Maybe they managed to instil the fear of Merlin into him if he even thought about doing anything like that again,” I said. “Or, at the very least, the fear of McGonagall.” Our head of House was such a strict disciplinarian she could even get the boys in our year to behave, no mean feat in anyone’s language.

Not surprisingly, after this the lessons we shared with the Slytherins became somewhat tenser. We had Potions and Care of Magical Creatures with them, and Charon had to deal with the contempt of the Gryffindors as we all sent various jinxes his way, all ‘completely accidental’ of course. None of us actually knew Lenny Dodderidge, but in our book anyone who was prepared to do that to a fellow student was nothing short of evil. Besides, aside from his litany of detentions, there didn’t seem to be any other punishments going his way as a result of what he’d done. He didn’t even get a Howler.

One day, towards the end of what had been a relatively uneventful Care of Magical Creatures class, our teacher, Professor Kettleburn, was helping Lily and Martha try to catch their Porlock, which had wrested itself from Lily’s grip and was heading off at a rate of knots towards the forbidden forest. As Kettleburn departed, James, Sirius, Remus and Peter saw this as their chance. Everyone knew it was coming but no one was particularly worried: their pranks on fellow students were generally aimed to embarrass rather than injure, and this was expected to be no different.

“Watch this,” I said, my eyes, like everyone else’s, fixed on Charon rather like he was a train wreck.

Mary nodded, holding our Porlock tightly – after all, we didn’t want to lose it like Lily and Martha had – while she looked through her hair at the boys who were slowly encircling the hapless Avery. He had now noticed what was happening and had to face them alone, as Scylla Pritchard, who he had been working with, scampered away quickly with their Porlock when she saw the Gryffindors coming. Snape and Mulciber were also watching from a distance – it seemed none of Charon’s friends had either the courage or inclination to come to his defence.

Cornered, Avery fumbled inside his robes in what seemed a vain attempt to locate his wand. “Got a problem, Black?” he growled, looking at the person directly in front of him and giving the distinct impression he was trying to sound much braver than he was actually feeling.

Sirius pretended to think about that. “I don’t think so,” he said lightly. “But then, I’m not the one who uses Unforgivable Curses on children. Would have said you had more of a problem, myself.”

Avery, who still hadn’t found his wand, glanced quickly over his shoulder in search of Professor Kettleburn, but he was still trying to corner Martha and Lily’s errant Porlock. The boys surrounding him moved in closer, as if for the kill.

“ _Locomotor mortis_ ,” said James, pointing his wand at Charon. It was the leg-locker curse – Avery couldn’t move without falling flat on his face.

“ _Engorgio_ ,” Sirius added, directing the charm at Avery’s mouth. His lips started swelling up until he had trouble keeping his head up with the weight of them.

“ _Furnunculus_ ,” said Peter, making boils sprout out all over Charon’s face. This time he did fall over, a painful-looking mess of burst boils and foot-wide lips, with his legs jerking around, unable to separate.

“ENOUGH!!!” yelled a voice from behind Avery – Professor Kettleburn had finally worked out what was going on. He was hurrying as fast as his limp would allow him towards the disturbance, his wand out and his white hair standing out furiously from his head. Remus, with his wand out, looked rather disappointed he would not be able to join in the fun.

“FIFTY POINTS FROM GRYFFINDOR!!” Kettleburn shouted angrily, breathless from his short run. “I don’t know what you were thinking, Mr Black, Mr Potter, but there is NO excuse for attacking a fellow student. Even if is Mr Avery,” he added, more quietly this time as he recognised the victim. I couldn’t help but get the feeling Kettleburn felt Charon deserved all he got.

“Mr Lupin, you are a prefect,” Professor Kettleburn said, his voice giving each word its own capital letter. “What in Merlin’s name were you thinking? Mr Avery, I’ll have to escort you to the hospital wing. Oh – sorry – _Finite incantatem_ , _Reducio_ ,” he added, unlocking Avery’s legs and shrinking his lips to a more manageable size.

Charon threw a filthy look at James and Sirius as Kettleburn marched him off towards the castle. Of course, with the teachers constantly chaperoning him around between lessons he couldn’t actually do much, but it was clear he’d filed the incident away under ‘reasons for revenge’, to be reopened when it was possible to extract it.

****

It seemed the school year had only just begun but already the teachers were piling on the homework, and those of us who weren’t extremely well organised (in other words, normal people) were having trouble keeping up with it all. Every night after dinner Mary and I could be found in the common room, cloistered away at our table by the window, trying to finish the latest Potions or Herbology assignment. One night in mid-October, however, we had to give that up entirely as it became impossible to study there.

We were halfway through our homework for Defence Against the Dark Arts (‘Explain with examples the situations in which minor curses and jinxes are appropriate’ – eighteen inches at least) when the furniture in the common room suddenly began to spin around randomly, knocking people over and settling itself over school bags, people and other furniture. Watching triumphantly from near the boys’ staircase were James and Sirius, their grins widening as the furniture wreaked more and more havoc. Our own table became part of the action soon enough, taking our chairs on a merry trip up part of the girls’ staircase, over the banister and then doing pirouettes in front of the fire.

Once it became obvious the boys had absolutely no intention of returning the common room to its usual state, Remus, who was a prefect after all, approached them with a resigned look on his face and tried to talk them into stopping the charm (or whatever it was). After all, we’d tried _Finite incantatem_ and it hadn’t worked, so this clearly needed something a bit more specific.

“All right, you two, let it off. You’ve had your fun.” Remus sounded almost exasperated, as though he had hoped in vain his prefect status would give him some degree of authority over his friends.

“Nah, we haven’t,” said James above the palaver. “We’ve only just begun.”

That sounded ominous, and Remus clearly thought so too. “Just begun what, exactly?”

James laughed. “Come on, mate, it is Friday night. Let’s have some fun to get the weekend started!”

Sirius plainly agreed. “And it’s not like we’re actually breaking any rules. We checked, and there definitely isn’t one that specifically says you can’t make the common room furniture do cartwheels by itself. So you can’t force us to stop because we’re not doing anything wrong.”

“But that’s not really the point, though, is it?” asked Remus, still in remarkably measured tones. I marvelled inwardly at how good he was at keeping his temper in a situation like this. “You’re interrupting the study of everyone in here and basically being a nuisance.”

“So?” Sirius’ arrogant streak was rearing its ugly head. “What difference does that make?”

“So you should show some consideration to the other people in the common room. It’s not all about you.” Ooh, that last sentence was a killer. Personally I thought Remus should most probably have quit a bit earlier – saying something like that to Sirius Black, particularly when he had his wand out, was never a good idea.

Sirius, however, just shrugged, in testimony to their years of friendship. Certainly if anyone else had said that to him they would have been flashing orange by now. Or have leeks sprouting out of their ears. “Dunno what you mean,” he said. “Of course it’s about us. Who else would it be about?”

James chimed in, a broad smile across his face. “Absolutely. We’re just showing a little love to everyone else in Gryffindor House. A touch of Potter and Black.”

Sirius nodded. “And we all know how much people like us to touch them.” He grinned mischievously, and Mary and I looked at each other and groaned.

“Ge’ yer hand off it, will ye,” Mary muttered, then turned to me. “What do ye say we finish off in the library?” We ducked a wayward armchair which had been hurtling towards us, bouncing over some second-years trying to play Exploding Snap and spinning off towards a furious-looking Lily, who had just come downstairs to discover the mayhem and was marching towards the perpetrators with her eyes flashing. Better to not be in the room when she got started with them, I thought, Merlin only knew what might happen.

“Never was there a better idea,” I said. “What did we do to deserve sharing a common room with those two?”

“Mus’ have bin Grindelwald in a previous life,” she said with a grin as she hoisted her bag onto her shoulder.

I laughed, dodging the fire tongs as they spun towards my head. “Can’t have – he’s still alive. But maybe one of his chief henchmen, do you think? And now we’re being punished.”

Mary laughed. “Where do ye suppose Martha is?” she asked, as though Martha’s status as Sirius’ girlfriend, if she disapproved of what he was doing, would have made any difference whatsoever.

I shrugged. “Beats me. Though I have the feeling that if anything she’d probably be encouraging them.”

“Aye, ye’re prob’ly right,” Mary nodded in agreement as we tentatively made our way to the portrait hole and headed downstairs to the library, grateful to escape the commotion.

****

Avery’s chance for revenge came rather sooner than he would have anticipated, though it didn’t exactly go off like he had probably hoped. A week or so after the Care of Magical Creatures incident he somehow managed to slip out of the Great Hall after supper without any of the teachers noticing.

The fifth-year Gryffindor boys and Martha, who for whatever reason had eaten with them that evening and was now firmly attached to Sirius’ arm, had just left the hall and were at the foot of the magnificent marble staircase in the Entrance Hall. Charon wasn’t dumb enough to take them on alone, and had recruited Severus Snape and Irving Mulciber for his little outing. Mary and I, exiting the hall behind the Slytherins with the intent of going to the library, stopped in our tracks and watched breathlessly to see what would eventuate.

“Potter!” Avery snarled at James’ retreating form.

James stopped and turned around when his name was called, but turned back equally quickly at the sight of Avery, Snape and Mulciber. “Moony, did you hear anything?” he asked casually, using an old nickname of Remus’ while jumping slightly to avoid a blue flash from Avery’s wand towards his feet. His reflexes really were excellent, probably a by-product of being on the House Quidditch team for the past two and a bit years, and he evaded it with ease.

“I don’t think so,” Remus said, casting a Shield Charm between them and the Slytherins.

“Must have been my imagination, then,” James said matter-of-factly, as though he was discussing the weather.

“I expect so,” said Remus, acting like he hadn’t seen Charon or his friends at all. “Peter, did you hear anything?”

“Not me,” said Peter. “Though I did see some Slytherin scum seeping out of the Great Hall. Do you think I should see if I can find a teacher?” He too jumped, though rather later than would have been necessary, as a yellow flash bounced off the shield Remus had erected and hit the bannister to his left, leaving a slight burn mark on the marble.

Martha, standing with Sirius on the second stair, had obviously decided to join in. “I don’t think so, Peter,” she said, smiling broadly. “It could spoil our fun. _Silencio_.” She pulled out her wand and reached over the Shield to successfully hit Mulciber with a Silencing Charm so he couldn’t send any more hexes.

The Shield Charm by this time was almost shattered by the wave of jinxes, so Remus re-cast it to ensure all five of them came out of this encounter intact.

Sirius had been watching, expressionless and silent, throughout the whole affair. He spoke up now. “You know what?” he said to no one in particular, a rather ugly expression of contempt creeping onto his otherwise handsome face. “I really don’t think they’re worth it. Honestly, if this is the best they can do – not even able to shatter a Shield Charm – what are we worried about?”

Snape blanched at the insult, but before he could respond James hit him with another Silencing Charm. Clearly the Slytherins weren’t yet able to cast non-verbal spells, which wasn’t really surprising considering we weren’t supposed to learn them until sixth year.

“Avery? Did you hear what Sirius had to say? He doesn’t think you’re smart enough to bother with,” James said with mock politeness.

“Like I care what that little son of a bitch thinks,” Avery said.

Sirius laughed sourly. “I didn’t realise you knew my mother, Avery!” Charon scowled, but Sirius was grinning humourlessly. “Say hi to her for me next time you see her, okay?” And, grabbing Martha by the hand, he turned on his heel and walked up the stairs towards Gryffindor Tower.

****

If the piles of homework being inflicted on us weren’t enough to keep us occupied, every weekend my _Sunday Prophet_ informed us of the news from outside the castle walls. Once I had quite enjoyed sitting down with the newspaper after breakfast on Sunday mornings, but as a by-product of the current war between the Death Eaters and, well, let’s call them sensible people, it was now more and more often filled with news of deaths, disappearances and incidents of torture.

“Let’s see what the damage is this week,” I said to Mary as we flicked through looking for the list of the most recent dead, injured or missing. “Right, here we go. Twenty-three dead definitely due to the war, another thirty-nine dead due to circumstances that might be linked to it. Seventy-one tortured or otherwise injured by Death Eaters or those acting on their instructions. And seventeen missing, though some of those had the Dark Mark above their houses so anything’s possible there.”

“Aboot normal, then,” she said. “Hoo’s the Ministry copin’ wi’ it all?”

“Probably the same as usual, as far as I know. Which is, they’re not. Mum reckons Dad’s going spare, no one seems to know what’s going on and the Obliviators are going from place to place without even knowing whose memory they have to modify or what’s happened this time. It’s a shambles, apparently.”

“Aye, tha’ doesn’ surprise me,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Makes lookin’ after Bea almos’ seem lik’ an easy job, doesn’ it?”

“As though that’s ever easy. You remember how last week she gave Damocles Belby an elephant’s trunk? Well, that was because he beat her in a Potions essay. I mean, Potions. It’s not like she even _likes_ the subject, but she was still ticked off he did better than she did. I swear, sometimes I think that girl is going to be the death of me.”

Mary giggled. “An’ what aboot tha’ thing yesterday?”

I groaned. “What, when Stamford Jorkins started reciting poetry for no reason?”

“Aye, tha’s the one. Tha’ was her, too, wasn’ it?”

“Absolutely. I haven’t been able to find out what that was about, she’s clammed up for some reason. But yeah, she and Cynthia and Sturgis have perfected this spell that means you can only speak in couplets. It took Madam Pomfrey and Professor Dumbledore two hours to work out how to reverse it.”

“I’m gettin’ the feelin’ ye’d rather deal wi’ the war than Bea,” she said. “Shall we ge’ back t’ the paper, then?”

“Why not,” I said glumly. “Who knows, it might even cheer me up.”

Mary busied herself with flicking through the paper looking for anything that didn’t relate to Voldemort and the Death Eaters, while I helped myself to some kippers. Suddenly she let out a loud groan. “Ye’re kiddin’. Even the birth notices are linked t’ the war. Here, look, prood t’ annoonce the birth o’ Gideon Crumb, son o’ the late Wilfred Crumb who was killed las’ week by Inferi, believed t’ be under the control o’ Death Eaters. The Inferi, tha’ is, no’ the bairn.” She made a face. “Tha’s it, I give up.”

“There is one bright side, though,” I said, turning the paper back over to show the front page. “Headline news is – so far as I can work out – totally unrelated to the war.” I indicated the lead story, which had the sensational news that the captain of the Montrose Magpies Quidditch team had been killed in a collision with a helicopter.

“I heard aboot tha’,” Mary said. “Right in the middle o’ the season, too. I suppose they’ll forfei’ their nex’ game?”

“Probably.” I scanned the article again. “You know, it’s a horrible thing to happen, and I feel awful saying this, but if their game against the Catapults is called off that almost counts as a win for us. Merlin only knows we need it.”

Quidditch was my bastion, my way to escape the worst parts of reality for a while. This was due to a lifetime of encouragement from my father, who had fostered a love of all things Caerphilly into us from birth. I think Dad had wanted a son, and when none arrived he decided to see how open Bea and I would be to things like sports and racing brooms. Bea paid no real attention to these things, but I was more receptive and spent much of my climbing trees in search of lost Quaffles and Snitches, soaring about the countryside on a toy broom, and going to see the Catapults whenever they were playing somewhere we could get to easily.

Mary grinned at me. “Aye, ye soond awful sayin’ tha’. Bu’ I understand where ye’re coming from. Who knows, with the Magpies missin’ a player, ye migh’ ge’ yer chance!”

“Hilarious.” Mary knew as well as I could that I would never be a Quidditch player. While I loved watching the game, I wasn’t much good at playing it –my balance, aim and reaction times were pretty good on the ground, but for some reason they deserted me on a broomstick. I could fly fine so long as I kept both hands on the broom, but once one hand left the wooden handle I had all sorts of problems.

She smiled again. “Aye, I know. Bu’ someone needs t’ tak’ yer mind off the war, an’ it might as well be me.”

****

As I sat in my final class the following Wednesday I found my attention waning. Ancient Runes was held in a normally abandoned classroom on the ground floor that day, as someone – probably James and Sirius, who had a habit of doing this sort of thing when they were bored – had bewitched all the suits of armour on the third floor so they threw gobstones at anyone who came near them, and the teachers hadn’t yet managed to catch them all to undo the spell. Professor Babbling, the Runes teacher, had hurriedly cleared out a room not far from the Great Hall and we had moved in there for the day, fortunate it was a class we didn’t need anything other than our textbooks and parchment for.

However, as I mentioned, my mind wasn’t really on Ancient Runes that afternoon. In our Defence class Professor Dingle had taken the opportunity to teach us about Dementors and their effects. Naturally Dumbledore had refused to allow a real Dementor to be brought to class, but Dingle had magically created the effects of an attack and as a result I was feeling less than inspired. While Babbling droned on about common pitfalls in advanced rune translation I allowed my mind to wander as I gazed outside to the bright October sunshine.

Through the window I could see Lily and Severus Snape, walking along the cloisters that surrounded the courtyard, deep in conversation. His face had a voracious look as he watched her, but she seemed unaware of it, her arms flapping about wildly as she tried to make a point. I watched them for a while, wondering why she never noticed the way he looked at her – I was sure I could never be _that_ oblivious – but she was as impervious as ever, talking unconcernedly as he gazed hungrily at her.

“Honestly, he gives me the creeps,” I said to Mary that night at supper. “Every time anyone came near them, even if they weren’t even paying her any attention, he’d reach for his wand and look absolute daggers at them. I’m amazed she didn’t notice.”

“I’m no’ surprised, though, really,” Mary said. “He’s always bin possessive o’ her, ever since firs’ year. Remember, he’d insis’ on walkin’ her everywhere, even when he was supposed t’ be somewhere else.”

“Yeah, but that was four years ago. She can look after herself by now, she’s one of the smartest in the year. By hovering over her all the time like that it’s more like he’s stalking her than protecting her.”

Mary giggled. “He prob’ly is. Stalkin’ her, tha’ is.”

“Yeah, well, it doesn’t look healthy from this distance.” I kept my voice down as Lily walked along the Gryffindor table towards Martha and Charlotte, having just finished another conversation with Severus by the doors into the Entrance Hall.

This opinion was strengthened at the Hallowe’en feast later that week. Always a highlight of the school year, the Great Hall was a masterpiece of giant pumpkins and hundreds of live bats flying around above our heads. The resident ghosts (with the exceptions of Professor Binns, the History of Magic teacher, and Peeves the resident poltergeist) had been talked into doing a bit of formation gliding and put on a very impressive show, and the food and drink surpassed even its usual quality.

Halfway through the night Severus crossed the hall to talk to Lily who, knowing the effect his presence would have on the rest of the Gryffindors, stood up and walked with him to the back of the hall. As usual he eyed her greedily and I thought I even saw him licking his lips. Lily, as always unaware of this behaviour, was talking to him cheerfully but distractedly, watching the ghosts doing their dance and enthusiastically joining in the applause when it was over.

The drama started when one of the younger students, who wouldn’t have been any more than second year, got a fright when a suit of armour jumped out rather close to him and ran terrified from the hall. At least he would have, if he hadn’t run headfirst into Lily by the door and almost knocked her over. Lily of course wasn’t bothered by it and was more concerned about the child’s welfare than her own, but Snape instantly got his wand out and put the boy in a full body bind before hitting him with a jinx that made his toenails grow at an alarming rate. Lily just stared at him, shocked.

We couldn’t hear them but Lily was plainly horrified by what Severus had done, and before long both hexes had been reversed and the poor child was sobbing in the corner, comforted by Professor Sprout. Lily glared at Snape and left the hall, while he appeared baffled as to why she was so upset.

“He’s go’ t’ be kiddin’,” Mary muttered. “He reckons he ca’ impress her by cursin’ bairns?”

“If he thinks that,” I said, helping myself to some pumpkin pie, “he doesn’t really know her at all, no matter how long they’ve been friends. That’s the last thing that would impress Lily.”

“I don’ lik’ the way he looks a’ her either. It’s lik’ ye said the other day. He looks all greedy, lik’ he wants t’ possess her or summit.”

“He probably does. Why she can’t see it I will never understand. I mean, it’s not like he’s subtle or anything.”

“She’s only ever seen him as a frien’,” Mary said wisely. “An’ she can’ understand why any o’ us think it might be more than tha’. On his par’, a’ leas’.”

“I dare say you’re right.” I watched Snape make his way back to the Slytherin table, having been chastised by more than one member of staff for his little indiscretion, though he still seemed unconcerned about what had happened. In my opinion, the boy clearly had difficulty telling the difference between right and wrong.


	3. The Sirius Black fan club

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things start hotting up at school but then a spanner is thrown in the works.

In early November notices went up in the common room about the upcoming Yule Ball. This was held every two years, usually on the Saturday night before Christmas and the day before the Hogwarts Express took us back to London for the holidays, and students from fourth year and up were expected to attend.

The ball was a source of great excitement among the girls in our year but less so among the boys, many of whom we suspected would rather ask Peeves to the dance than a real girl. After all, maturity levels among fifteen and sixteen year olds fluctuate wildly. Some of us had dress robes we had brought with us at the start of term, but those students with less organised parents, or who didn’t like their parents’ choices, had to make the most of the upcoming Hogsmeade visit to find appropriate clothing.

Lily, Martha and Charlotte were bursting with enthusiasm about the ball and made extensive plans to find the most glamorous dress robes they could at Gladrags. While any of them could have shown up in a hessian sack and still looked stunning, there was something charming about the extent of their preparation – even though as we neared the end of November, only Martha, who was going with Sirius, had a date.

This wasn’t for want of trying on the part of the Hogwarts male population, however. James had naturally asked Lily as soon as he could (or as soon as he could get up the guts), but as always his timing was slightly off. In this case, he tackled her as we finished a Care of Magical Creatures lesson, which had been marked by James and Sirius setting their Niffler on Elsie Barkwith and Irving Mulciber from Slytherin, both of whom wore several rings and had neglected to remove them for the class; Elsie had been sent to the hospital wing as a result of the ensuing attack. The conversation, which we all overheard, went something like this.

“Evans?” This was said rather tentatively.

“What do you want, Potter?” Lily had her head in her bag, trying to jam her textbook back inside, and so was rather distracted and a little annoyed. I suspected once he started talking to her she also stayed there so he couldn’t see her face.

“Uh, I was wondering, would you go to the ball with me? Please?” I had to hand it to him, he sounded rather endearing, and I wondered whether this would be the day she decided to give him a chance. I mean, at least he said please.

“And why would I want to do that, Potter?” Lily asked shortly, her head emerging from her bag at last.

This took him aback somewhat. “Oh, er, well, you see …”

Lily glared at him. “And you, of course, being irresistible, can’t think how I might possibly not want to go with you? You’re an arrogant, pig-headed, bullying toerag who thinks that because he’s a pretty boy with money he can get away with anything. You know, if the Bloody Baron asked me to the ball, I think I’d take him over you.”

Well, it would seem Lily didn’t think that was the day to accept him, not if she’d prefer the company of the Slytherin ghost. James visibly slumped, his face pale and the swagger in his step definitely gone.

Lily, being beautiful, gifted and kind, was naturally swamped with other suitors, some of whom even managed not to be hexed by James in the process. In the end she said yes to Severus Snape, of all people, in what was obviously a testament to their long friendship. He went around for a couple of days looking like Christmas had come early, until James finally got wind of the situation and turned his ears into grapefruit at the breakfast table.

Charlotte was also beating them off with a big stick. Like James, her glasses made her even more attractive, and at sixteen she was just settling in to becoming a great beauty, which was emphasised by the sheer weight of potential dates.

“Poor Charlotte,” Martha giggled in the dorm one night as Lily prepared to head off to one of Slughorn’s gatherings. “Tilden Toots just asked her to the ball.”

“Toots?” Lily asked, giggling herself. “Ooh, that’s unfortunate. What did she say?”

“What do you think?” Martha said. “She was very polite, of course, but she turned him down. Honestly, why he even thought he’d have a chance …”

Lily was plainly trying to be fair. “Well, I suppose it’s _possible_ he might bathe between now and then, to get rid of the smell of dragon dung.” Tilden, while a nice enough boy, was mad about Herbology and would spend every spare moment in the school greenhouses with Professor Sprout. As a result, he carried a permanent odour of the various manures used, the most prominent scent being dragon dung, which had to be one of the least attractive smells known to man or beast.

“So, how many has she turned down now?” Martha asked.

“Six. Or is it seven? I lose count,” said Lily, reaching under her bed for a stray shoe. “Anyway, I’ve got to go, she’s probably wondering where I am by now.” And, finding the shoe and putting it on swiftly, she hurried out the door and down the stairs.

Mary looked at Martha a little shyly. “So why does she keep sayin’ no? I heard Max Williamson ask her, an’ he seems nice enough.”

I giggled – even I knew the answer to that. Martha confirmed it by rolling her eyes.

“She’s waiting for Remus to ask. She’ll never admit it, of course, but that’s what she wants.”

“She’s fancied him for ages,” I added a little hesitantly. Martha looked at me quizzically. “Well, she’s not always that subtle,” I said, emboldened as she appeared interested in what I had to say. “I figured it out last year. Remember when she got all uptight when he got ill and Snape and Mulciber kept making those snide remarks?”

Martha smiled suddenly, sitting down on her bed. “That’s right. I’d forgotten about that. She was a bit obvious, wasn’t she?”

“Well, does he know?” Mary asked. “Why doesn’ he ask her oot?”

Martha shrugged. “No idea if he knows or not. I certainly haven’t told Sirius, if that’s what you’re suggesting.” Her eyes flashed a little.

Mary shook her head. “No, I didn’ mean t’ sugges’ tha’,” she said. Martha relaxed a little. “I jus’ wondered why he’d wait. Mos’ lads in this school’d kill t’ go oot wi’ her.”

“Well,” I said, thinking about it, “perhaps he doesn’t know. Boys are often really clueless about that sort of thing. Or, maybe he thinks she’s out of his league.”

“Who knows,” Martha said with a shrug, pulling out a lipstick and applying it distractedly. “Anyway, I’m out of here. Sirius was going to sneak out of Sluggy’s party and meet me by that big mirror on the fourth floor. See you!”

Whatever Remus’ reasoning, he didn’t ask Charlotte to the ball. Eventually, as November closed, she realised she couldn’t wait for him forever and agreed to go with Cadmus Bragge from Hufflepuff, a tall thin boy with dark blonde hair and piercing blue eyes, who I had dated early in fourth year.

Mary and I, naturally, weren’t nearly as sought-after. Near the end of the first week of December Hector Bole from Ravenclaw asked me to the ball when I was sitting in their common room with Bea, trying to dissuade her from playing practical jokes on the Hogwarts ghosts. (Definitely not a good idea, I argued, especially if Peeves works out who’s responsible.) Hector wasn’t handsome but wasn’t bad looking either, he seemed perfectly nice and it beat going without a date at all, so I agreed. Mary accepted a similar proposal from Gerry Stebbins, one of Hector’s dorm-mates, a day or so later.

For almost a week things were great in our dormitory – we all had dates and Mary and I were welcomed into the other girls’ conversations when they were planning hair and makeup styles for the ball, and swapping jewellery according to what would match each other’s dress robes. However, it wasn’t to last, and one night the cat was hurled in among the pixies.

A couple of weeks before Christmas, Martha came flouncing into the dorm at about eleven o’clock, looking decidedly bedraggled. We were getting ready for bed, but Martha was often out until midnight, choosing to spend that time with Sirius in a broom cupboard somewhere.

“That’s it, I’ve had enough,” she said, hurling herself onto her bed. “We’re breaking up.”

Lily spun around from her spot in the bathroom, toothbrush frozen mid-stroke. She hurriedly spat out the toothpaste and came back into the dorm.

“Martha! What happened? You were going so well!” She sat down on Martha’s bed and gave her a bear hug.

“ _Were’_ is the key word,” Martha said bitterly. “Really, he’s fine. We don’t say much but that never really bothered me.”

Charlotte, who was running a large comb through her hair, joined Lily on Martha’s bed. “You want to talk about it?”

“Why not,” said Martha. “Everyone else will be.” She rolled over and looked at the canopy of her four-poster bed. “It’s because of the fan club. Those bimbos who follow him around everywhere. Half of them aren’t even in his year, so that makes them hanging around his classrooms all the time all the more pathetic.”

We had all noticed them, of course, it was impossible not to: a bunch of fifteen or so girls, from third to sixth year, who had their sights set on Sirius and made it their business to bump into him, sometimes literally, at every given opportunity, particularly now Christmas trimmings were up and mistletoe had been posted throughout the castle. While they were decidedly ridiculous, and most of the school joked about them behind their backs, their numbers had been swelling significantly over the past year or so, as he became taller and grew into his looks more, becoming even handsome (if that was possible). Even people like Mary and me, who barely knew Sirius, knew he found the fan club irritating and tedious, and would much prefer it if they disappeared entirely.

“They’ve been making my life hell,” Martha said. “Jealous, of course. And I can handle that, but I’m getting sick of them Transfiguring my things or trying to pelt me with Dungbombs or Stinksap or whatever the fad is this week. So I asked him to talk to them.”

“You didn’t,” said Charlotte, respect clear in her voice. It was suspected Sirius would rather dance with the giant squid that lived in the black lake than even acknowledge the fan club’s existence in public.

“I did. I’m sick to death of it. And even if they don’t listen to McGonagall, or Dingle, or Slughorn, or any other of the teachers, they might listen to him.”

“And how did he take that?” Lily asked.

“Not particularly well,” Martha said. “He said it would be like opening Pandora’s box, once he started talking to them he’d never be rid of them. Not that his current approach seems to be working.”

“No, but he’s got a point,” said Charlotte. “I can just imagine how they’d be, they’d feel validated or something, that he was talking to them. They probably will disappear eventually if he ignores them for long enough.”

“I think Charlotte’s right,” I said with some hesitation, my confidence buoyed a little by the fact I’d been included in their conversations more and more lately. “If he recognises them as a group they’ll never give up. They might as well apply to Dumbledore to become an official club.”

“I know, I know,” said Martha, clearly irritated. “But patience has never been one of my strengths. And, you know, they’re just infuriating! And the only way to stop it is to break up with him. So I told him, I said it’s either you talk to the bloody fan club, or we’re over. And he chose the ‘we’re over’.”

Lily was looking serious now. “And you’re okay with that?”

Martha considered for a bit. “Actually, yeah, I am. It was never a deep relationship, it was just a bit of fun. And it definitely _was_ fun,” she added, an almost maniacal grin crossing her face. “But if you can go out with someone for three months and hardly talk to them, well, that was us. It was all physical. I’ll miss it, but I’m not broken hearted or anything.”

Charlotte had made her way back to her own bed and pointed her wand at her head, pulling her hair back into a bun. “So,” she said matter-of-factly, “do you want us to plot revenge on Sirius or on the fan club?”

Lily smiled. “Or we could do both, if you’d prefer.”

“Oh, the fan club, definitely,” Martha said, her blue eyes sparkling. “What did you have in mind?”

****

The Sirius Black fan club was unofficially led by a fifth-year Ravenclaw named Elvira Vablatsky, who had been one of the first to latch onto Sirius – or attempt to – in about second year. She was a statuesque blonde girl with a pretty face and a keen mind, but her infatuation with Sirius made her a laughing stock with the rest of the school. Due to my spending a tidy amount of time in the Ravenclaw common room with Bea, I knew her reasonably well and as a result she tended to use me as a source of information for anything Gryffindor-related. I got along with her fine when she was focusing on things other than Sirius, but her one track mind generally made conversations with her rather difficult.

Over the past couple of years she had been joined by a few girls in our year – Carol Jones, a black girl from Hufflepuff, and Greta Catchlove, a short, curvy and somewhat plump Ravenclaw, were the ones who most readily came to mind, though there were others. There were maybe six girls from the year below us who had also joined in the throng – a couple or so from each of Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, and even a Slytherin who was trying her hardest to be subtle about it. Another few came from the year below that, obviously figuring two years was an acceptable age gap for at-school relationships. And I was pretty sure at least one or two of the fan club came from sixth or seventh year, clearly happy going for a younger man.

James Potter had a fan club of his own, but it was significantly smaller – not because he was that much uglier, but because everyone knew he wanted Lily. The half dozen girls who had set their sights on him saw him as a much more of a challenge and therefore worth spending some time on. He was tall, dark and handsome, just as Sirius was (though maybe not quite as handsome), and rich, just as Sirius was, but the Lily thing was either a significant deterrent or a significant turn-on, depending on the girl. James, of course, was even less interested in his following than Sirius was in his and paid them even less attention, if that was possible.

“Of course, it’ll be easy to get back at them,” Martha said the following morning as she pulled on her school robes. “They’re so obsessed with trying to get Sirius to notice them you just have to attack their vanity. Make them ugly. They’ll hate it.”

“That won’t be difficult,” Lily said. “With Greta and Carol, at least. They’re pretty plain to start with, we don’t have to do much.”

“Harder with Elvira, though,” Charlotte said, polishing her glasses on her robes. “She’s a bit of a stunner, really. If she didn’t keep throwing herself at him she might have even had a chance.”

“Yeah, well,” Martha said, “don’t let that stop you. She’s going to have to be the main target, I think, considering she’s basically the leader. Turn her hair to Murtlap tentacles or something, that’d do the job.”

Lily gave her wand a bit of a twirl. “Maybe not that, but certainly something along those lines. Leave it with me and I’ll see what I can come up with.”

Over the next twenty-four hours Lily, Charlotte and Martha decided on their course of action. They picked as their targets the most prominent members of the club, namely Elvira, Carol Jones, Leda Minchum, Greta Catchlove and, from fourth year, Primrose Fawley. Leda and Carol were both Hufflepuffs and the rest were in Ravenclaw, so there needed to be a bit of a combined effort to make sure they were all affected.

The prank itself took place in the Great Hall and was carried out by Lily and Charlotte, leaving Martha to sit innocently at the Gryffindor table talking to Mary and me so everyone would think she had nothing to do with it. Lily and Charlotte positioned themselves on either side of the door before breakfast the next morning and simply waited for their targets to walk in. As each one arrived, they suddenly became royal blue from head to toe, except for their faces which were bright pink and developed an interesting texture, rather like coarse sandpaper. The prank necessitated absolute accuracy in spell casting, as they had to be sure not to miss their targets, but Lily and Charlotte were both fairly precise and managed to carry it off without mishap.

The victims, on the other hand, were less than impressed, especially as none of them could figure out how to reverse the spells. Even Greta, who was best in our year at Charms, couldn’t get it right. In the end they were all sent to the hospital wing for Madam Pomfrey to weave her magic and get them back to normal, though even that seemed to take an inordinate amount of time and none of the girls made a reappearance before lunch time.

“Oh, that was brilliant,” Martha giggled as Lily and Charlotte eventually joined us at the Gryffindor table. “Did you see their faces? Magnificent.”

“Well cast, too,” I said with admiration. “I could never have hit them from that distance.”

Lily smiled and shook her head a little. “Course you could have,” she said, going a little pink. “You’ve got great aim, Laura. But yes, it was a good shot, wasn’t it?”

“An’ they had no idea where it came from,” Mary added, smiling. “Ye could see them lookin’ aroond everywhere fer who might have done it, an’ they couldn’ work it oot. Ye did well.”

“How long do you think they’ll be in the hospital wing?” Martha asked, her eyes sparkling. “Any chance it’ll be all day, do you think?”

Lily shook her head. “I doubt it. They might miss a couple of classes, but even Madam Pomfrey probably won’t keep them too long. Can you imagine having that lot all locked up in there for any length of time? She’ll probably let them go just to be rid of them.”

“Now there’s a poin’,” Mary giggled.

“You’re telling me,” Charlotte said. “Now, what’s for breakfast? I’m starving.”

****

On Saturday night the week before the Yule Ball, Professor Slughorn held a Christmas party for his favourite pupils. These were generally the most brilliant, beautiful or well-connected students, though their selection sometimes appeared somewhat arbitrary. Of the Gryffindors in my year, Charlotte had been invited to join the Slug Club, as it was known, straight out of the blocks, as her uncle Quentin had written one of our textbooks. Once their brilliance became apparent, James and Sirius also received invitations, as did Lily for both brains and spunk.

The parties were held perhaps monthly, but the Christmas one was the biggest and brightest, as they not only involved copious amounts of food and drink, but also guests from earlier generations of the Slug Club. These guests had in previous years included Bertie Bott (from Every Flavour Beans fame), Quidditch player Karl Broadmoor and breeder of winged horses Laurentia Fletwock. Even trash journalist Rita Skeeter once got an invitation, according to Lily, though why she would have even been in the Slug Club in the first place was beyond me.

Lily and Charlotte got back to the dorm well past midnight but we were still awake, waiting for their report. While generally we had little interest in Slughorn’s gatherings the Christmas party was an exception, most probably due to the guests and also the season which made people a little more excitable than usual. This year the guests included Cornelius Fudge, who was making quite a name for himself in the Ministry and was touted by some as a possible future Minister, Hamish MacFarlan, who used to play Quidditch for the Montrose Magpies and was now also in the Ministry, and well-known nutcase Hambledon Quince, who had publicly spouted a theory wizards come from Mars and Muggles from mushrooms.

“It was hilarious,” Lily said with a giggle, which I suspected was due more to the drink that was rumoured to flow freely at these parties than anything else. “Fudge was holding court in the middle of the room, raving on and on about whatever had his goat up –”

“It was the anti-troll campaign Artemius Lawson keeps trying to set up,” Charlotte interrupted. “You know, the sort of thing that’s so important the Ministry has to concentrate on that rather than, well, I don’t know, catching You-Know-Who?” She rolled her eyes in an exaggerated way.

“Yes, that was it,” Lily said, giggling again. “Well, he was droning on and on, so much that even Slughorn was getting bored by it, but then his robes kept changing colour on him. Every five or ten seconds, just a subtle change, but they went from blue to pink without him noticing!”

“James and Sirius, of course,” Charlotte explained, hiccoughing a little. “Bored witless, as you’d expect, so they were practicing their Colour Change Charms. By the time Fudge noticed he was wearing fairy pink. And the boys were rolling around on the floor laughing while Fudge went the same colour as his robes. It was a scream.”

“But then Hamish MacFarlan arrived, so that was the last we saw of James and Sirius,” Lily said a little scornfully.

Charlotte nodded, taking up the narrative. She was far more interested in Quidditch than Lily anyway. “Yep, MacFarlane had a group in the corner and told us exactly how the Magpies had won so many championships while he was captain. You know, bending the rules and, well, cheating – all those things we’d thought they were doing but couldn’t prove.”

“And he actually admitted to it?” I asked, spellbound.

“That surprised me, too,” Charlotte said. “But I think it had a lot to do with the Firewhisky on offer – the more he drank, the more he told us. I almost wish I’d taken a quill so I could have taken notes, Dad would love to know some of that stuff.”

“Good thing Rita Skeeter wasn’t there this year, then, wasn’t it?” Martha said archly.

Charlotte nodded. “Well, if she was, I doubt he would have been nearly so talkative. It certainly was interesting, though.”

“This was the best bit, though,” Lily said, starting to laugh again. “Hambledon Quince. I think he was getting annoyed that people weren’t paying him enough attention, so he cast _Sonorus_ on himself …” She trailed off, laughing so hard she was having trouble talking. Eventually she recovered enough to go on. “Yes, so he made his voice loud and then announced to the whole party that centaurs were the result of a breeding program of Abraxans and Doxys gone haywire!”

This was the funniest thing we’d heard all night, and it took a while for the giggles to subside. “No wonder you’re so drunk,” Martha said after a while. “I’d be drinking, too, if I had to sit through speeches like that.”

Lily giggled again. “Clarrie had to walk us back to the common room,” she said. “We were having trouble getting our feet to go the right way.”

“Clarrie?” Martha asked, frowning. “Why him? I would have thought you’d have had plenty of other offers.”

“We chose Clarrie,” Charlotte said pointedly. “I thought my brother would be a better chaperone than anyone else there.”

“Not even James?” Martha asked, smiling wickedly. She was always trying to get Lily to admit she fancied him, a lost cause in my opinion.

“Hamish MacFarlan,” Lily said, rolling her eyes. “We couldn’t have dragged James away if we’d tried.”

“Of course,” said Martha. “Well, how about Snivellus?” Of course, I thought, he was in the Slug Club too, probably due to his skill at Potions.

Lily glared at her. “ _Severus_ , you mean,” she snapped – she hated it when her friends used Snape’s nickname. “Good point. Charlotte, why didn’t Sev walk us back upstairs?”

“He was talking to Hambledon Quince,” Charlotte said. “I didn’t see any reason to interrupt, not when Clarrie was available.” _Or_ , I thought, _you didn’t see any reason to rescue someone you can’t stand from a torturous conversation with a nutter_.

Fortunately the party was on a Saturday night, so Lily and Charlotte had Sunday to recover. Mary and I helped Martha look for some Sobering Solution when we went downstairs at breakfast time in an attempt to help them get over their evening, but we weren’t able to find any and didn’t know how to get into the kitchens to ask for some. And Slughorn, who was often quite happy to dole it out, wasn’t at breakfast either, most probably also feeling the effects of the night before. So unfortunately Lily and Charlotte had to deal with their aching heads in the traditional Muggle way, and there was nothing we could do to help them aside from staying out of the dorm and keeping the curtains closed.

By Sunday afternoon both girls were their usual selves again, both swearing off alcohol for life, or at least until they were required to get through another of Slughorn’s Christmas parties. Even this close to Christmas there was still a tidy bit of homework to get done, and after lunch Mary and I spied them in the library, looking a little tired but otherwise determined to finish their Charms essays. By supper they even had their appetites back and were at the Gryffindor table with Martha, joking away as they usually were and entertaining everyone within earshot of the various theories of Hambledon Quince. The party, it seemed, would live on as a key part of Hogwarts folklore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, yes, I know. The Yule Ball. It's both a cliche, and not canon - unless there is a Triwizard Tournament to go with it. However, without it I just couldn't get my story to go the way I needed it to, so it's in ... and in my defence, I think I could skew canon to infer it COULD have been a regular occurrence once. In any case, I hope you'll excuse this infraction and keep reading. Thanks!


	4. The end of term

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Term finishes, but there's still the Yule Ball to look forward to.

On Monday morning we trundled downstairs after breakfast for double Potions, wondering how Slughorn had recovered from his little gathering that weekend. This lesson was usually a bit of a trial even without a hung-over teacher, not only because Professor Slughorn thought we ought to be able to achieve three times as much in a double class, but also because the fact Snape was accompanying Lily to the upcoming ball meant James was always looking for an opportunity to jinx him.

Slughorn’s main concession to the aftermath of his party was he looked even more than usual like he had been indulging in the finer things in life. His walrus moustache was droopy and his nose even redder than usual as he welcomed us into the classroom. As usual, Severus and Lily took their table at the front of the class and started setting up their cauldrons. Snape kept looking over his shoulder at the tables James, Sirius, Remus and Peter were occupying at the back, his wand out and a nasty look on his face. Mary and I, not far away, agreed it was only a matter of time before one of them grew bat wings or something similar.

Slughorn, true to form, noticed none of this, or if he did he ignored it as the main perpetrators were all members of his Slug Club. “Today,” he was saying, “we are going to be making a Befuddlement Draught. Who can tell me the uses for this potion?”

As usual, Lily’s and Snape’s hands both went up, and Lily ended up reciting the potion’s properties and applications. Opening my textbook, I groaned out loud – this had to be one of the most complicated potions I’d ever attempted, and that included the Draught of Peace at the start of the term. However, there was nothing to it but to do it, and Mary and I joined the queue of students to collect our ingredients from the students’ store cupboard and set to work.

“Look a’ tha’,” Mary said about halfway through the class. “Looks lik’ the lads have bin at it again.”

I followed her gaze to see that Severus Snape’s nose, already rather large, was steadily increasing in size. I stifled a giggle. “Wonder how long that’s been going on for. It’s almost a foot long, surely Slughorn’s noticed?”

“Especially since he’s in the Slug Club an’ all,” Mary said. “I’m surprised he hasn’ said anything.” In any case Snape was very obviously incensed, as was Lily, but James and Sirius appeared to be enjoying themselves immensely.

At that point Professor Slughorn, so often oblivious to what went on in his classes, finally looked up from Maggie Flint’s potion and noticed what had happened. Being the Potions master, he thought Severus had been hit with some Swelling Solution rather than the Engorgement Charm it patently was, and ran around trying to concoct a Deflating Draught when all he had to do was get out his wand and say “ _Reducio_ ”. Meanwhile, Snape was getting more and more irate. To his obvious chagrin, his fellow Slytherins were laughing at him rather than taking his side or helping him out, an indication perhaps that he wasn’t as popular as he tried to make Lily believe.

Fortunately for Snape, Lily had her wits about her and, pulling out her wand with surprising speed, cast the counter-charm fairly quickly.

“Thank you, Lily,” Professor Slughorn said with obvious relief, watching Severus’ nose quickly return to its usual size. “I think, though, Severus, you should still go to the hospital wing. Just to make sure, you know, there wasn’t anything else.”

Lily smiled at him and then swiftly turned around to glare in James’ general direction. James, for his part, gave her what I was sure he thought was his most winning expression, though it disappeared rather quickly. However, never one to give up, he recomposed himself quickly and was soon running his hand through his hair again, trying to make it look the way he wanted.

“Come now, Severus,” Slughorn was saying to Snape. “Pack up your cauldron and go and see Madam Pomfrey. You’re excused from the rest of this class.”

I turned to look at Snape, who had an expression of abject fury on his face as he made his way out of the classroom. If I was James, I thought, I would have certainly been on my guard, a feeling that was validated a second later when I saw Severus whip out his wand and send a hex at his rival.

“Ye’re kiddin’,” Mary muttered, a look of horror on her face as she watched the spell’s effect on James. He had obviously been hit with a Stinging Jinx, and because he’d been focusing on Lily he hadn’t been able to react in time. In a matter of seconds his face swelled up to be unrecognisable.

I looked around at Lily, wondering what she thought of her friend doling out hexes like that, even if it was at James Potter, but she looked more confused than anything. “You know, I don’t think Lily even realises Snivellus sent that jinx,” I said.

“Aye, his timing was verra good,” she said. “They were busy concentratin’ on each other so he took his chance.”

“I wish it didn’t have to always be in class like this, though. These potions are hard enough to get right even without them trying to curse each other into oblivion every lesson.”

Mary groaned dramatically. “Aye, no arguments there.”

Behind us, James’ new look was causing delight among the Slytherins and general horror among his friends and admirers. Those of us who were neither just found the whole thing somewhat amusing. Sirius and Remus bundled him out of the dungeon and took him either to the hospital wing or somewhere safe where they could reverse the damage – which it was wasn’t clear from their garbled message to Professor Slughorn.

In any case, the end result was neither James, Sirius, Remus nor Severus were with us for the remainder of the lesson. Lily appeared to enjoy the peace and quiet immensely and we all managed to get through the class with minimal disruption, a most unusual occurrence when you shared a class with those four. Mary and I were both rather pleased with our attempts at Befuddlement Draughts that we handed up to Slughorn at the end of the class, and I thought if left to my own devices without too much interruption I may even get a decent mark in my OWLs.

****

The last school day before the Christmas holidays and the day before the Yule Ball was soon upon us, and no one was paying much attention to classwork. In our Astronomy theory lesson our checking of star charts was rather predictably disrupted by the boys, as usual making fun of the Canis Major constellation, also known as Sirius, to such an extent Professor Dobbs threatened to call in McGonagall to control them. 

Herbology wasn’t much better. Peeves had interrupted the lunch period, apparently convinced an avalanche of Dungbombs was just what everyone wanted in their food, so we were hungry and very smelly by the time we headed towards the greenhouses for the afternoon lesson.

“What do ye think?” Mary asked as we left the Great Hall, covered like everyone else in the foul-smelling things. “Quick shower afore Herbology t’ wash it off?”

“I don’t know,” I said, trying to get a Dungbomb-inspired knot out of my hair. “Sprout will probably have us working with manure or something, it’s probably not worth it.”

“Aye, ye’re right,” she said. “There was a full moon las’ week, wasn’ there? So she’s prob’ly go’ some mooncalf dung fer us t’ spread aboot.”

And, as it turned out, we were right in that assumption. Professor Sprout had indeed obtained a fresh supply of mooncalf dung collected at the last full moon, so we spent much of the lesson carefully fertilising the Abyssinian Shrivelfigs and Fanged Geraniums, being extra careful with the latter to avoid being bitten.

Needless to say, once Herbology finished there was a general rush to the dorms so everyone could shower before heading back down to supper. In the commotion we saw James Potter suffering from the unmistakeable effects of a Jelly-Legs Jinx and noticed Lily hiding behind a statue and watching him with a gleeful expression on her face, her wand spinning around in her hand.

“So much fer prefec’s settin’ a good example,” Mary muttered, though she was smiling.

“Wonder what he did this time,” I said.

“Might no’ have bin anything. Sometimes she jus’ feels lik’ hexin’ him. Though I can’ say I blame her.” Really, Lily and James were sometimes like kids in the school playground, pulling pigtails and the like. Though it also reminded me of something else …

“Yeah, it’s a bit like him and Severus,” I said. “You get the impression they just jinx each other for something to do.” And because they both desperately wanted the same girl, of course, but that was so obvious it went without saying.

Once we made it upstairs we found Martha already waiting for the shower, and were joined shortly afterwards by Lily. I hadn’t had to wait that long to use the bathroom in any time in my schooling before, at least not that I could remember. Fortunately we were all in the same boat so could laugh about it in the dorm while we waited.

Finally term was over, and we could relax. All we had left before going home for the holidays was the Yule Ball the following night and most of the teachers, recognising it was Christmas, hadn’t even set much holiday homework. While the sensible part of me knew I should be spending my spare time before the ball getting what homework finished that I could, the more realistic part decided collapsing on a sofa in the common room in front of the fire, book in hand, was a much more desirable option. Either that or hexing various Slytherins who got in my way, as Scylla Pritchard discovered when she tried to jinx me on my way out of the Great Hall after lunch on the Saturday and ended up with a cat’s tail and whiskers for her trouble.

Once lunch was over and Scylla had been safely dispatched to the hospital wing, Mary and I wandered outside and made snow angels on the lawn near the lake, pausing only to dry ourselves off with hot air charms. We also threw occasional snowballs at passing students and, as a challenge, at the Whomping Willow, which was more entertaining as if your aim was good enough it would hit them back.

The Willow, on the lawns halfway between the castle and the forbidden forest, had been at Hogwarts for at least as long as I had, and had the title of ‘whomping’ because its branches would swing around and attack anyone who got too close to it. We couldn’t help but feel this was a bit of a shame, because there was a hole at its base which rumour had was a tunnel that contained a monster of some sort. Where the tunnel led no one was sure, but some people theorised you could get out of the school grounds through it so, if the monster thing wasn’t true, it was a bit intriguing. When we were younger we used to dare each other to see who could get close enough to the Willow to touch the trunk, but that ended when Davey Gudgeon from Hufflepuff nearly lost an eye and now no one was allowed within thirty feet of it.

In any case it made good sport, hurling snowballs at its branches and seeing where it would hit them, and Mary and I were thoroughly enjoying our afternoon. Energised by the cold air, it was with flushed faces and wet gloves that we finally made it back inside some two or three hours later. We were on our way back to Gryffindor Tower to have a long bath and wash our hair when we were assailed by Lily, who had apparently been looking for us.

“There you are,” she said with a grin from ear to ear. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

“Why, what’s up?” I asked as she got between us and hooked her arms into ours.

“The ball, dummy,” she said, steering us towards the nearest staircase. “We wanted to all get ready together, and to do that we needed you.”

“Already?” asked Mary with obvious surprise. “Bu’ we’ve go’ hours ye’, it’s no’ even four o’clock.”

Lily just grinned even more. “Well, yes, but there’s bubble baths and hair treatments and all sorts of things we can do,” she said, winking at me. “Don’t tell me you thought it was just a matter of having a quick shower and getting changed?”

“Not exactly,” I admitted, “but that wasn’t far from the mark.”

“You two are far too much of tomboys,” she said, shaking her head in mock exasperation. “We have so much to teach you about the good things about being a girl.” And she would brook no opposition as she frogmarched us into the common room and then to our dorm, where Martha and Charlotte were waiting.

Getting ready for the ball took the best part of three hours, as the five of us had long baths with lots of different smelling potions in them, experimented with different shades of eyeshadow and lipstick, and exchanged hairstyling tips. Mary and I weren’t used to being included with Lily, Martha and Charlotte like this, but as Lily had already indicated that night the importance of getting things right for the ball and making each other over far outweighed minor things like who you would normally talk to.

Lily looked down at her dress robes, which were a mixture of rusty orange, deep yellow and other autumn colours, all mixed together in a tie-dye effect, and sighed. “I’m still not sure I can wear this,” she said. “It’s not too similar to my hair colour, is it?”

Martha shrugged. “We did give you the option of swapping with Charlotte,” she said. Charlotte was wearing robes of emerald green, which were a perfect match for Lily’s eyes.

Lily shook her head. “No, they look much better on you, Charlotte. I don’t have the height to pull that style off.”

Charlotte blushed, but Lily was right. Charlotte’s extra height did make a difference, and the emerald green looked a treat against the expanse of coffee-coloured skin across her shoulders. “You look wonderful anyway, Lils. You just need some accessories and you’ll knock ’em dead.”

Martha was digging in her bedside cabinet. “Here,” she said, thrusting something at Lily. It turned out to be a gold charm bracelet. “And Laura, do you have those silver earrings I saw at the start of the year? Long droppy things with beads on them. They’d look brilliant with Charlotte’s robes.”

I stopped fidgeting with my own robes and dug around in my jewellery box. “Here you go,” I said after a minute of searching, and handed the earrings to Charlotte, who promptly put them on. “Yes, you’re right, Martha. They look a treat.”

Charlotte stopped admiring herself in the mirror and turned to me and Mary. “So what about you two? I’m sure we’ve got something lying around that can jazz up those robes a bit.”

I looked down at my robes, which were the ones Bea had worn two years previously but with some alterations made to make them something I might be seen dead in. Bea’s taste wasn’t much like mine, and she had worn vivid pink robes with balloon sleeves and a ribbon and bow around the waist. The pink I could deal with, but a Severing Charm got rid of the ribbon and bow, and a quick trip to Gladrags did the same for the balloon sleeves.

Mary, at least, had new robes - pale grey that sat just off her shoulders. We’d already done her hair in a thick plait that sat on her left shoulder, curling out at the bottom, but Lily was right – she did need some accessories.

“Definitely silver with that colour,” Lily said decisively, her eyes on Mary. “Same for you, Laura. We’ll have to see what we’ve got between us.”

Martha pulled out a thick silver necklace that I’d never seen her wear and handed it to Mary. “What do you think?”

Mary put it on but almost immediately shook her head. “It’s a wee bi’ too chunky, I think,” she said, taking it off again. Charlotte almost immediately made a noise and started removing her own necklace, this one with a delicate chain but a bold silver and onyx pendant.

“Mary should wear this,” she said. “I’ll take that one of Martha’s – it would work with these robes, I think.”

Martha was staring at herself in the mirror with a frown on her face. “Is this too much?” she asked, indicating the plunging V-neck of her pale yellow robes. “I liked it in the shop, but I’m not sure now.”

“You look lovely,” Lily said. “Though, if you’re worried about giving people too much of an eyeful, you can always offset it with something like …” and she trailed off, her hands in Martha’s jewellery box. “This,” she said finally, pulling out a gold necklace with an oval pendant. “That should do it.” She fastened it around Martha’s neck and nodded with satisfaction at the result.

Jewellery and most people’s hairdos sorted, Martha and Charlotte fiddled and fussed with my mousy brown hair but even they couldn’t do anything about the kink that persisted in staying there. I’d been trying for years to rid my hair of it – this was 1975, after all, and hair needed to be dead straight, which mine steadfastly refused to do.

“This is impossible,” Charlotte said after trying one final time to straighten it. “Have you ever thought of just cutting off it to get rid of the kink?”

I shook my head. “I’d look too much like Bea.” Keeping my hair long was one of the only ways I could really differentiate myself from her in any meaningful way. Our other physical differences – height and eye colour – weren’t nearly so noticeable from a distance.

Martha nodded. “Yes, so you would. Right, so we’ll can that as an idea. I think we’ll have to put it up, it’s the only way to deal with it. What do you think, a French twist?”

“Definitely,” Charlotte agreed, and I nodded. It really was the only way.

Once we were all ready, the five of us headed downstairs to the Entrance Hall together to meet our dates. Martha – who had accepted sixth-year Nestor Hopkirk’s offer of a date following her break-up with Sirius – and Charlotte disappeared quickly and just as quickly reappeared on the arms of their beaux before heading into the Great Hall. Lily found Snape also without difficulty and the two of them were already deep in conversation as they walked through the doors of the hall. Of course as a pairing they looked completely out of place, with the beautiful and elegant Lily easily outshining the dank, pale, hook-nosed, greasy-haired Severus. However, it appeared he had made at least an attempt to dress up for the occasion: his dress robes, which were simple and black, looked a little shabby but were definitely clean, and his hair looked almost like it might have been washed.

“Ye know,” Mary said, watching them, “I thing tha’ might be the firs’ time I’ve ever seen him whe’ his clothes haven’ bin covered in potion stains.”

“And grease marks from that hair of his,” I said, thinking about it. “You may be right. He looks almost presentable. I mean, the robes are clearly second-hand, but from what Lily’s said they don’t have much gold so you can’t hold that against him.”

“Have ye ever seen him wear any colour other than black, though? Compared wi’ Lily, he looks lik’ a vampire or summit.”

“Mary,” a voice interrupted us. “I’ve found you at last.” We turned around to see Gerry Stebbins and Hector Bole, our dates for the evening. Gerry, who was the one who had spoken, continued. “You look fantastic.” Mary smiled and took Gerry’s offered arm, and I took Hector’s, and the four of us made our way into the Great Hall.

We were happily ensconced at a nice out-of-the-way table and on the verge of ordering our meals when everything stopped suddenly and all heads spun to the doors of the hall, where James and Sirius were making their appearance. Fashionably late, they walked in as though they owned the place, and well they might have, the way they looked. Even the staff stopped what they were doing to watch.

“Wow,” said Mary beside me. “They scrub up all right, don’ they?” I nodded silently, unable to find my voice.

James wore robes of a dark red, which set off his black hair. He looked unruffled and sophisticated, though his hair was still messy, and I suspected he preferred it that way. Veronica Smethley, a slender Hufflepuff girl with blonde curls who was his date for the evening, looked very nice in pale blue robes and her hair up in a French twist, but struggled to fit the part of James’ companion.

Sirius, if it was possible, looked even better, wearing black robes which were so elegantly cut they must have cost something roughly equivalent to Luxembourg’s national debt. He was with Fortuna Robins, a fourth-year who was also wearing simple and graceful robes, and with someone else she may have looked a million Galleons, but with Sirius she just looked plain. In a sense it was a real shame he and Martha had broken up, as she would at least have been able to give the boys a run for their money.

Next to me, Hector made a noise that sounded a bit like a growl. “Who do they think they are, swanning in half an hour late? Think they’re better than everyone else, do they?”

My voice came back at that remark. “Pretty much,” I said, trying to lighten his mood. The last thing I wanted was a date who was jealous of people whose paths would most probably never cross ours all evening. “Does it really matter?”

“Probably not,” he said, but he was still glowering.

“Imagine the impact if they were actually interested in the girls they’re with,” I said to Mary. She nodded, acknowledging it was perfectly clear they had absolutely no interest in their dates. If they had been paying them any attention at all, fussing over them or whatnot, I suspected even the most resolute of girls there would have been swooning, dying to swap places with them. Because Veronica and Fortuna were being ignored, however, the effect was somewhat diminished.

Mary started giggling, and I looked back to see why. “Poor lads,” she said, indicating Peter and Remus coming in behind their friends.

She was right. It was an anti-climax to see Remus and Peter with their dates. Remus, a nice enough looking boy, looked great in his navy dress robes, but he suffered in comparison with the other two. He was also rather pale, and I remembered he had been ill that week and wondered vaguely if he would make it through the evening. Peter, who was very plain at the best of times and had struggled to find a date shorter than himself, simply looked out of place, and was having trouble keeping up with everyone else. Even his companion looked slightly repulsed by him as she followed the others to a table.

Besides that distraction, the evening started well. The feast was lovely and Gerry and Hector paid Mary and me a lot of attention, so much so we almost thought we had been their first choices as dates. After everyone had eaten the band started playing and we got up to dance. Hector was rather an awkward dancer, stepping on my toes several times, but it was a small price to pay for what was becoming a very pleasant evening.

After a couple of hours the butterbeer was flowing with ease, and Hector and Gerry found some Ravenclaw buddies and started chatting. Mary and I, eager for a catch-up, moved away and found a quieter spot by the wall where we could talk.

“How’s the date going?” I asked.

“He’s nice enough in his own way,” she said, “bu’ so dull! I’m startin’ t’ hope he loses interes’, I think I’ll die o’ boredom otherwise.”

“I don’t think that’ll happen somehow,” I said, looking over at the boys. Gerry was watching us and had a smile dancing across his lips as he surveyed Mary.

“I know,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I’m gettin’ the same vibes. Hoo aboot you?”

I sighed. “Hector’s a nice bloke, but it’s about the same as you. There’s no spark.” She nodded understandingly. “I just can’t imagine getting close enough to kiss him. Besides, he keeps stepping on my toes – I don’t think I’ll be able to walk properly for a week.”

Mary laughed. “A’ leas’ I don’ have tha’ problem. Gerry can actually dance – aye, I’m surprised too. Frankly, I’d though’ –” She stopped talking mid-sentence and stared at a spot above my right shoulder.

I spun around. Sirius Black was standing there, his hands deep in his pockets and a rather nervous expression on his face.

“Ah, Miss Cauldwell, I was, ah, wondering if you would, ah, allow me to have this dance?” he said in an amusing mixture of formality and awkwardness.

I was so surprised he could probably have knocked me over if he’d breathed a bit harder. I recovered, however, and smiled, aware that next to me Mary was doing her very best impersonation of a fish, her mouth opening and closing silently. “Certainly, Mr Black, I would be honoured,” I said, imitating his formal manner.

As he led me away, I looked back at Mary and mouthed, “What the –?” She shrugged, a confused expression on her face, until she caught my eye and dissolved into giggles. Scowling at her, I steadied myself, hoped my face didn’t resemble a Quaffle too much, and walked onto the dance floor.


	5. The girl least likely

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Yule Ball is memorable for all the wrong reasons, and has repercussions that Laura really should have been expecting.

Sirius was a surprisingly good dancer, which was useful because I wasn’t. As he led me expertly around the room, I took a deep breath and looked up at him firmly.

“So, was it a bet or a dare?”

“What are you talking about?” he asked, shiftily enough to tell me my guess had been right. When his eyes drifted to where James was sitting by the far wall, I grinned.

“Don’t play dumb. We both know you’d never ask me to dance in a million years. Not with ninety-five percent of the girls here gagging for it, and, well, I’m not.” I was right about the ninety-five percent, or at least it felt like it. Death looks seemed to be emanating from all corners of the room, and I had a sneaking suspicion I’d be lucky to get out of this without being hexed by Elvira or someone similar. “Besides, Potter just gave you the thumbs up.”

He groaned. “Are we really that obvious? Okay, yes, it was a dare.” I grinned triumphantly, though part of me was slightly disappointed. It would have been nice to be asked because he actually wanted to dance with me. “I’m sorry,” he said, putting on the ‘ashamed’ look he used for teachers when caught breaking the rules. “Do you hate me for it?”

I considered that. “Not really. At least this way it’s clear where we stand. I’m guessing you’d prefer I didn’t join that fan club of yours as a result of this – which for all you know I would have done if I’d thought it was genuine.”

He looked surprised. “You wouldn’t do that!”

“How do you know? We don’t know each other well enough for you to say that with any certainty.”

He paused. “I guess not. Would you?”

“No, I don’t think so,” I said. We danced in silence for a while.

“Anyway,” I said a bit later, “why would Potter pick me for your dare?”

He looked a little uncomfortable. “Do I have to answer that?”

“No. I was just curious.”

“It killed the cat, you know,” he said airily. I raised my eyebrows. “Oh, okay. I feel pretty bad about this now anyway. It was something about the most unlikely …” He trailed off, looking ashamed. Not just the ‘ashamed’ look, but actually ashamed. I hadn’t realised he could do that.

Once I got over this mild distraction, I thought about what he’d said. Was I really the last person he’d ever willingly dance with? “But surely he could have come up with a better candidate,” I said. “I’m sure Scylla Pritchard would be dying to dance with you.”

He made a face. “No Slytherins. It’s an unwritten rule. James has at least some honour.”

Well, with the Slytherins ruled out, I knew why it was me. Beatrice. Anyone related to her would definitely be in the least likely list. And speaking of her …

“Oh, for goodness sake,” I muttered in frustration, looking over Sirius’ shoulder. “Sirius, would James count your dare as being done if I ditch you before the song’s over?” Oops. I’d used their first names. We _never_ addressed the boys by their first names, except possibly Remus. This had to count as a slip-up of some sort.

Thankfully he ignored the slip-up and considered my question. “I’d say so. I asked and you agreed to it and followed through. Why?”

“Because it looks like I’ve got a fire or two to put out,” I said, pointing.

He looked around. Beatrice, who had been dancing with Otto Bagman from Hufflepuff, had obviously got upset about something and was in the beginnings of a tantrum, turning Otto’s dress robes inch by inch into pink crepe paper.

“Yes, you’d better go,” Sirius said, letting go of me. I started to move towards Bea. “Oh, and Laura?”

I paused and looked over my shoulder at him, mildly surprised he actually knew my first name.

“Thanks for being such a good sport about this.”

I smiled briefly and headed over to where my sister was making a spectacle of herself, in a futile attempt to put a hold on her reputation before it got any worse. One of the teachers had already started reversing the charm when I got there, so I bundled Bea out of the room as quickly and quietly as possible.

“Bea, you know better than that. What did you bring your wand to the ball for anyway?” I asked as we headed towards Ravenclaw Tower.

She pouted. “He insulted me. Said I was a freak and should just get out of school so everyone else can have a good time.”

“While he was dancing with you? Why’d he ask you to dance if he was going to say things like that to you?”

She hiccoughed uncomfortably. “I don’t even know any more. I just – just – I didn’t know what to say, I was really hurt, so I wanted to hurt him. And I knew he was vain, so the pink paper seemed like a good idea …”

I grinned despite myself. “Bea, Bea, what are we going to do with you? How many times have I told you, just ignore them. Walk away, count backwards from twenty, whatever works for you, but don’t respond. They’re not worth it. You know they only say things like that to get a rise out of you. If you don’t react, they’ll stop doing it.”

“I know, I know,” Beatrice said. “Stop giving me lectures. I’m older than you, ergo, I should be right and you should be wrong.”

“And I’m taller,” I said. Due to a growth spurt in fourth year I now had about three inches on her, which meant she literally had to look up to me. “That’s about as relevant as you being older these days.”

“Yeah yeah.” She made a face, then paused at the entry to Ravenclaw Tower. “Will you come in with me? I need someone to help me calm down …”

“Of course,” I said, as she gave the correct answer to the eagle-shaped doorknocker’s question. When she was ready for bed, I just sat with her in the dorm, holding her hand till she drifted off to sleep.

When I got back to Gryffindor Tower, the ball was obviously over as the common room was packed with revellers who were not yet ready to go to bed, and several second- and third-years who wanted to know any new and interesting gossip. Mary beckoned at me furiously from her table.

“What happened?” she asked, grinning.

“Took Bea to bed. She got a bit riled up. Did you see what she –”

“No’ tha’,” she interrupted, looking over my shoulder to make sure no one could hear us. “SIRIUS! Why did he dance wi’ ye? What’s goin’ on tha’ I don’ know aboot?”

“Oh, that,” I said. I’d forgotten all about it. “Nothing. James dared him to ask me.”

Her face fell. “Ye’re jokin’! An’ he _tol’_ ye tha’?”

“I beat it out of him. To his credit, he did seem a bit embarrassed about it. Who knew Sirius Black had a conscience?” I said it lightly, wanting to drop the subject, but Mary persisted.

“Hoo do ye feel aboot it, though?” she asked, clearly hoping I wasn’t too cut up that the only reason someone like Sirius Black would ever dance with me was on a dare.

“Not great,” I said. “I think I was a bit disappointed when he admitted it. But I’d rather know, than sit here with you coming up with all sorts of conjectures and maybe getting my hopes up.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Do I detec’ a wee crush on Sirius Black, Laura?”

I thought about that. “I don’t think so. He’s nice to look at but he’s a bit too much of a jerk. Besides, to get a crush on someone, don’t you need to be able to imagine getting together with them? I can’t imagine myself with him. We’re from different worlds. He’s destined for someone like Martha or Charlotte. Or Lily, but I think James would kill him.” I paused, thinking about it. “At least, though, now I can tell my grandchildren I danced with Sirius Black.” I giggled. “And then ditched him halfway through!”

“Now there’s a poin’,” said Mary, grinning. “Ye’re prob’ly right. A shame, though,” she went on, looking over my shoulder at where the boys were entertaining the crowd, still in their dress robes. “They are _verra_ goo’ looking …”

****

The following morning, suitcases in tow, Mary and I rather surprisingly found ourselves joined by Martha and Charlotte in the horseless carriage due to take us to Hogsmeade station.

“Not with Lily?” I asked.

“Nah, she’s had a better offer,” Martha said with a grin. “You wouldn’t have seen this ’cause you’d taken off already with your sister, Laura, but last night she got together with Lance Savage from sixth year. He chatted her up while they were at the bar waiting to be served. Poor old Snivellus was livid.”

“Yeah,” said Charlotte. “We reckon he’d thought it was an actual date. She’d never even considered that.”

“She wouldn’ have,” Mary said. “She’s in a state o’ constan’ denial o’er what he thinks o’ her. Why aren’t ye wi’ Nestor?” This was to Martha, who smiled briefly.

“He’s staying at school over Christmas,” she said. “We might see each other after the holidays. Or we might not. It was left up in the air a bit.”

“Does that mean you’ll hook up if neither of you get a better offer in the meantime?” I asked with a smile.

“Pretty much,” she said. “Why aren’t you with Gerry, Mary?”

Mary groaned. “It was a wee struggle t’ ge’ rid o’ him this morn. He seems a lo’ keener on me than I am on him.”

Charlotte laughed. “Isn’t that always the way?” she said, and I had the feeling she was thinking of Remus.

“And Laura,” said Martha with a bit of a glint in her eyes, “what’s with you and Sirius?”

“What, that dance thing last night? James dared him to do it, that’s all. Nothing to it.”

She nodded, still smiling. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I thought it might have been something like that. He’s never spoken two words to you before.”

“I was surprised he knew my name,” I said. “First name and everything. It was a bit of a shock.”

It appeared my little dance with Sirius was a big source of gossip, not least because I’d appeared to storm off in the middle of it and leave him in the lurch. People seemed to think there was a lot more to it than there actually was, which was demonstrated shortly afterwards when Elvira came through the train looking for me.

“Laura,” she said, walking brazenly into the compartment the four of us had settled in and sitting down without introduction, “why was Sirius dancing with you last night?” She ignored Mary, Charlotte and Martha, obviously thinking they couldn’t be of any use to her. A couple of other members of the fan club were hovering just outside the door, though it was unclear if they were offering support or just trying to listen in.

I looked at Mary, thinking I should have known Elvira wasn’t going to let something like that slide. “He asked me to,” I said, not sure just how much of the conversation I wanted to tell her.

“He asked you?” she repeated, her eyebrows going further and further up her forehead. “You? I don’t believe it.”

“Well don’, then,” said Mary. “Bu’ I was there, I heard him ask. He called her by name an’ everythin’.” She gave me a quick wink and we both tried to ignore Martha and Charlotte, who were trying rather blatantly not to laugh.

Elvira was gaping. “It’s not fair, you being in Gryffindor,” she pouted. “He doesn’t even know my name.”

I was sure he did, since he spent so much time trying to get away from her, but I wasn’t about to say that. “I can’t help where the Sorting Hat put me,” I said instead.

“But why did he ask you?” she went on, getting noticeably worked up. “Is there something going on between you? Why didn’t you tell me?”

I suppressed a giggle and steadfastly refused to look anyone in the eye. Even if there had been something going on between me and Sirius, preposterous as that idea was, Elvira was the last person I would have told. We got along reasonably well on a general basis, but this whole Sirius Black thing she had going was simply ridiculous and I wasn’t about to encourage it. In the end, however, thinking I’d rather not go through what Martha had suffered at the hands of the fan club, I decided to tell all.

“There’s nothing going on. If you must know, he danced with me because he was dared to.”

Elvira stopped hyperventilating. “It was a dare?”

“Of course it was a bloody dare, why else would he ask me?”

She looked visibly relieved. “Oh, thank Merlin, I was thinking he’d got a new girlfriend or something. At least he’s still single. More chance for me then!”

Mary raised her eyebrows. “Have ye bin pesterin’ Fortuna Robins aboot this as well?”

“Just a bit, before the ball,” she said. “But it was pretty obvious last night it wasn’t a real date so we weren’t too worried.”

I started laughing. “Who did you go with last night, Elvira? Davey Gudgeon, wasn’t it? How did he like you fawning over another boy all night?”

She had the grace to look a little embarrassed. “I don’t think he was too concerned. He was too busy drooling over Lily Evans. As most of the boys were. I think he was a bit peeved when Lance Savage got lucky with her, actually. But I was trying not to be too obvious, just in case he did get upset.”

Martha, Charlotte, Mary and I exchanged a grin at the thought of what Elvira would consider ‘not too obvious’. My guess was it would include following someone around all night but would not include going so far as to deliberately spill a drink on their date, but I wasn’t about to say that out loud.

Anyway, I suspected Elvira was getting the (correct) impression we wanted her to leave. I for one had no intention of spending the entire seven hour train journey back to London talking about Sirius Black, which is what would have happened if she’d stayed in our compartment. In any case she got up as abruptly as she had sat down and made her way to the door.

“Well, if there’s nothing to hear, I’ll be off,” she said airily as she stepped into the corridor, joining the other girls from the fan club who were still hovering outside our door. “See ya!” And she waved to us as she wandered back down the train, most probably looking for Sirius so she could start bothering him.

The four of us just looked at each other and laughed. “She is the living end,” said Martha, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “Seriously, she’s in Ravenclaw. How can someone so smart be so dumb?”

“I don’t envy you, Martha,” Charlotte giggled. “Having to put up with that tosh all the time. No wonder you dumped him.”

Martha snorted. “That was an easy one. No wands out or anything. I was expecting you to at least be glowing purple by now, Laura.”

I shrugged. “I don’t think she exactly sees me as a threat. And for some reason she’s decided I’m the one to give her personal information on him. Not that I can, considering I know diddly squat about him, but apparently being in Gryffindor makes me an instant expert.”

“Only because tha’s what she’d be if she were in Gryffindor,” Mary said with a giggle. “Never one t’ waste an opportunity, tha’ one. Prob’ly can’ understan’ why ye don’ see things the same way she does.”

“Did you see her though? Looked like she was going to have a heart attack before you let out it was a dare. Absolutely hysterical.” Martha was still laughing. “Laura, if anything like that ever happens again, make sure I’m around when Elvira confronts you and then string it out for as long as you can. I’d pay to watch that.”

“It’s a deal,” I said, smiling and putting out a hand for Martha to shake. “Because of course it’ll be happening weekly from now on, now we’ve broken the ice.” And I just about managed to keep a straight face when I said it.

Charlotte laughed. “Do you know, for a second there I almost thought you meant that!”

I giggled. “I’m getting better at it, aren’t I? Anyway, in all seriousness, I think I can pretty much guarantee nothing like that _will_ ever happen again.”

Martha smiled. “Probably not. But never say never. And if it does, make sure I’m there!”

****

When Bea and I finally got home that evening, thanks to Dad and the wonders of Side-Along Apparition, we discovered our maternal grandparents were visiting from Bath, where they had retired to. This not only explained Mum’s absence, but also gave us the opportunity to hear all about the rugby they’d attended the previous night.

Mum, as a Muggle, had indoctrinated Bea and me very young into the intricacies of rugby, which has been described (with good reason) as the Welsh national religion. Many times during the years before Hogwarts a catch-up with my grandparents meant going to a Test match at National Stadium in Cardiff, which was always a highlight of the colder months.

“If only that school of yours could have let you go a day early,” my grandfather said. “You would have loved it, Laura. We played Australia and hammered them twenty-eight to three!”

I smiled as I sat down in the kitchen, not even needing to fake my enthusiasm. “That would have been great. Who got all the tries?”

As they waxed lyrical about Wales’ performance and pointed my attention to the newspaper reports about the win, I tried not to get too jealous. I definitely felt they had the better end of the stick, as being at that game would certainly have been preferable to being used as part of a dare at the Yule Ball. To tell the truth, despite a promising start I’d not particularly enjoyed the ball, and it was years since I’d been to a rugby international as they never seemed to coincide with school holidays.

Aside from that, the Christmas holidays passed pretty much without incident. It was great seeing my parents again but as usual they were preoccupied with Beatrice, who was taking her NEWTs and feeling the stress of it. Dad even went to Bobbin’s Apothecary for a Calming Draught after she lost her temper at the dog and streams of different coloured water started coming out of its nose.

As the quiet one, the one who didn’t cause trouble, I was left pretty much to myself. Not ignored, and there was certainly no malice in it, but Bea always took up a tidy bit of my parents’ attention, so I watched a bit of _Doctor Who_ and some old movies on the television and busied myself in front of the fire with a good book or three. I had received a good collection for Christmas – Mary had given me a selection of Fifi LaFolle romances, and Mum a number of Muggle mystery novels – so I was well set for a bit of escapism. In summer I liked to spend a lot of my time outside, but with the snow some four inches deep on the ground a bit of fireside reading sounded like a much better idea.

“You’re not going out much these holidays,” Mum said one day when she found me in the living room with my nose in a book. “Aren’t you going to catch up with Sarah and Lucy? Go shopping, or to the movies, or something?”

I shook my head. “I don’t really have that much in common with them anymore.” Sarah and Lucy had been my closest friends in primary school, but as they were Muggles and I spent so much of my time immersed in the magical world I found we had very little in common these days.

“That’s sad,” Mum said. “But what about those magazines and records I’ve been getting you? Don’t those help with that?”

Mum occasionally struggled with her exclusion from the magical world. Of course, she wasn’t completely excluded: the Ministry had perfected a modified version of the Memory Charm for cases like hers, where the person is aware of the magical community, and can penetrate places like Diagon Alley and Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters, but when in the company of Muggles pretty much forgets about magic. This works quite well generally, but Mum was always aware of her lack of magical abilities, particularly when Bea and then I came along and were quite obviously magical from a young age.

Regardless of this, she’d done her best to ensure Bea and I had grown up with a foot pretty much in each world, refusing to let us abandon our Muggle roots. As children we were schooled at our home not far outside Cardiff until I was eight or so when we moved to Bristol, just across the Mouth of the Severn, and were sent to the local Muggle primary school. I went a bit younger than Bea because I could be trusted from a younger age to keep my mouth shut about magic; besides, anything odd we said was generally attributed by the other kids to the fact that we were Welsh, and from the country. The move meant that Mum could go back to her job in the police force, and eventually she became the Bristol force’s chief officer for investigating matters related to the magical world. I suspected many of her colleagues had no idea what exactly she did, but she was good at her job and, with the exception of the odd uncontrolled outburst from Bea, everything went smoothly.

“Stuff like the records helps,” I said, “but it’s not enough. Sarah and Lucy, their lives are just so different from mine now I don’t know what to talk to them about. I mean, I’ve seen photos of the film stars they’ve got crushes on, but I haven’t seen the films so I can’t talk about those, and there’s no way known I could catch up with it all in the few weeks I’m back here each year.”

She nodded. “I was afraid this would happen,” she said, sitting down next to me on the sofa. “I’ve been trying to keep you involved, but there’s only so much I can do, isn’t there?”

“Yeah, I think there is. So really, all I’ve got now is Mary. And Bea, but quite frankly I’m not always proud of that.”

“I wish you had more friends,” Mum said. “I feel like you’re missing out on something. I don’t really know what, but I wish that even those other girls in your dorm would talk to you more.”

I shrugged. “Same as with Sarah and Lucy, though in a different way. Not much in common. And, well, I often have to spend a lot of time running around after Bea.”

“She can be difficult,” Mum acknowledged. “And you’re very different from each other. Well, I’m sorry you’re losing touch, Sarah and Lucy were nice girls. But I can understand how it’s happened.” She sighed, leaning back against the sofa cushions. “It just worries me, Laura. You’re going to get more and more involved with your father’s world, and I’m going to lose you. We’re eventually going to end up like you and Sarah and Lucy, aren’t we, and run out of things to talk about?”

I leaned over and gave her a hug. “I’m sure we’ll always be able to find something to talk about. Even if it’s just what Bea’s been up to lately.”

She laughed. “Well, yes, there is always that.” She turned to me suddenly. “She makes things hard for you, doesn’t she?”

_You don’t know the half of it_. _I was humiliated at the school ball because of the simple fact I was her sister_. But Mum didn’t need to know that, it would only upset her, so I just shrugged again. “Well, there are some people at school who wouldn’t want to visit me here because she’s here too,” I said. “But they’re probably not worth worrying about anyway, not if they’re that shallow.”

It sounded good, I thought. It sounded nice and mature and exactly the sort of thing I should say, and I should think. The trouble was, it wasn’t entirely true. I wanted to be popular. I even wanted those people to like me, even if I didn’t like them all that much. After all, no one wants to be ignored. However, it just wasn’t my lot in life, and I had learned to accept that.

Mum, too, seemed to accept it, and even praised me for my maturity in dealing with such things. “You just go on being you,” she said, giving me a quick hug. “It’ll all work out, I promise you.”

Yeah, right. Being me was one thing, but being Bea’s sister was quite another.

Fortunately, my Cauldwell genes did have the occasional benefit. Just before New Year’s Bea came looking for me. “Hey. You doing much?”

I looked up, knowing what was coming. It happened most holidays, when she wanted to show off how much she’d learned and how smart she was, and entailed her teaching me all the spells she and her friends had invented that term. So far I had learned, among other things, how to turn someone’s fingers into asparagus spears, make their neck extend like a flamingo’s, make them honk like a goose, speak in Spanish (or French, or Arabic) for an hour, give them cow’s horns, tail and a matching bell, join their knees together, grow wheels on their feet, or make any cat they encountered follow them around for three days. I could also bewitch a book to fall open at its most embarrassing or compromising pages (useful when planted in front of someone), set a radio so it wouldn’t change its station no matter what you did to it, make goblets close over when you tried to drink from them, bewitch a parchment so your essay always looked six inches too short no matter how much you wrote, blow up a quill on time delay, or jinx someone’s photos frames so the subjects never go into them.

“Nah, I’m good,” I said, putting down my book and grabbing an old receipt from the lamp table to act as a bookmark. “What’s up?”

“I just wondered if you felt like learning some new hexes,” she said. “Seeing as I’ve only got two more terms at Hogwarts, we need someone to carry on after I’m gone.”

“Sure,” I said. “What is it this time? That rhyming couplets thing?”

She grinned. “Yeah, that’s one of them. And there are a couple more, too. Here, I wrote them down …”

I took the sheet from her and had a look. Yes, there was the rhyming couplets, as well as the elephant’s trunk jinx, one that turned people’s hair into earthworms, and the hex she’d cast on Otto Bagman at the Yule Ball that turned his robes into pink crepe paper.

“Looks good, Bea,” I said, matching her smile. It didn’t matter if I never used the spells – if nothing else they were good to threaten people with. “So what are the wand movements?”


	6. The fan club diminished

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hogwarts gossip, and more than one incidence of it. Some is interesting and some is frankly annoying and really a pain to deal with, but all of it has consequences. And Bea tries to blow someone up at the dinner table.

 

“Have you heard?”

“What?”

“Sirius Black! Ran away from home over Christmas.”

“Really? Why?”

“Dunno. I heard he doesn’t get along with them, though, since he was put in Gryffindor.”

“You don’t say. So where’s he living now?”

“Potter’s place, apparently.”

“Wow. Wonder what happened?”

Almost before the train arrived back at Hogsmeade after the Christmas break, and certainly by the time the return feast had begun, conversations like the one above were heard all over, the usual lightning-fast Hogwarts rumour-mill doubling in speed due to the subjects of the story. Before two days were out people from other Houses had started hanging around Mary and me, under the mistaken impression that as Gryffindors in the same year as Sirius and James we would have some sort of inside knowledge. When it became obvious we couldn’t enlighten them any more they dropped off, most probably attaching themselves to someone else who might be better informed.

All we could tell them, all we actually knew first hand, was Sirius was being rather quieter than usual and was more prone to losing his temper at people, often James, Remus and Peter, and often over what appeared from our distance to be relatively minor things. His face had a closed look to it and he seemed rather withdrawn. The boys in turn closed ranks around him and didn’t let anyone else get near, much to the disappointment of Elvira and the fan club, some of whom had plainly felt all Sirius needed to get through this difficult time was for them to be tending to his every need.

The other consequence of the rumour was to do with the fan club itself. Sirius running away from home was taken to also mean Sirius had been disinherited, and on the news he was no longer the rich playboy, just the playboy now living on someone else’s goodwill, several of the girls dropped out, transferring their attentions to other boys in the school. Some gravitated onto James, but he blocked them out as effortlessly as Sirius had, and others found entirely new objects of desire, many of whom couldn’t believe their luck. Mary and I concluded after a week or so for at least half a dozen boys, Sirius being disinherited was the best thing that had happened to them in years.

“Look a’ tha’,” Mary said, watching Bernie Carmichael, the Ravenclaw prefect, escorting not one but two girls to supper one evening. “He’s doin’ well oot o’ all this.” Both the girls, one in our year and one fourth-year, had the previous term been members of the fan club but had dropped out since Christmas.

“He must have a tidy bit of gold,” I said cynically. Though I quite liked Bernie as a person, and though I didn’t want to cast aspersions on his attractiveness (though his red hair and freckles quite frankly didn’t do much for me), it was the only reasonable conclusion if those girls had abandoned Sirius because he was broke.

“Maybe,” said Mary. “Carmichael’s no’ an old name so I can’ tell ye anything aboot his family, bu’ it wouldn’ surprise me.” Whatever the reason, Bernie was clearly enjoying his new-found popularity and was allowing the girls to take it in turns to spoon feed him steak and kidney pie.

The other boys’ protective cordon around Sirius lasted several weeks, though it did suffer a withdrawal a couple of weeks into term when Remus disappeared for the weekend to deal with the rabbit from hell he had at home. (Apparently Remus’ pet rabbit couldn’t be controlled by his parents for whatever reason, and three or four times a year he had to go home to deal with it. We had all found this a little odd to begin with but after five years no one even commented on it anymore. The rabbit did however have a rather nasty reputation and an apparently fierce temper, and James, Sirius and Peter even referred to it as Remus’ ‘furry little problem’ as though, like Voldemort, using its proper name would unleash its wrath upon us all.)

James and Peter responded to the extra responsibility by just not leaving Gryffindor Tower that weekend, unless it was absolutely necessary. They certainly didn’t eat in the Great Hall – in fact, Sirius barely attended meals there all month, instead choosing (we believed) to raid the kitchens between classes, and I wasn’t sure he’d uttered a word outside of the confines of the tower since term had started. The remaining members of the fan club tried to get close enough to offer their condolences, or whatever else they wanted to offer him, but they were very effectively blocked by James and co.

“I’m worried about him,” we heard a Ravenclaw girl, who didn’t look any older than third year, fretting at lunch time one day as she hovered around the Gryffindor table on one of his rare appearances. “He’s not eating, he’s looking so pale, he might be making himself ill!”

“And it’s so hard to get close enough to get a good look at him,” said her friend. “If only we could do something! But those stupid friends of his won’t let us within spitting distance.”

Mary and I looked at each other, stifling a giggle. It was so predictable, so absurd.

“Do ye think they’ve go’ any idea hoo ridiculous they look?” Mary whispered.

“Probably not,” I said. “The way things are going, I’m expecting warm towels and hot chicken soup to be delivered to his dorm any day now.”

James’ protective stance around Sirius had almost caused him not to notice Lily was still seeing Lance Savage. Almost. His preoccupation with his friend, however, meant he didn’t do anything aggressive to Lance until Sirius was back on track well into February, by which time Lily was clearly so happy with her life it was almost like he didn’t have the heart to upset her. Mary, Martha and I discussed it one night when Lily and Charlotte were out at one of Professor Slughorn’s gatherings.

“Ye know, I’m amazed Lance ha’ made it this far wi’oot growing tusks,” Mary said. “James mus’ be really distracted.”

“I don’t know,” said Martha, thinking it over. “Just after the holidays, I would have agreed with you. But things are back to normal now, and he still hasn’t had a go at him.”

“I wouldn’t exactly call it back to normal, then,” I said.

Martha conceded the point. “Yeah, okay, I’ll pay that. But still, he’s definitely holding back. And he can’t not have noticed, Lily’s been glowing for weeks.”

Mary snorted. “Since when ha’ James Potter failed t’ notice any wee thing aboot Lily?”

“Since never,” I said. “The boy’s obsessed.”

“Yeah, he is,” said Martha, “but I think this time he might just have put her happiness first.”

“Martha!” Mary protested in mock horror. “Are ye sayin’ tha’ James Potter is growin’ up?”

Martha laughed. “That might be pushing it. But seriously, I do think he’s laying off because she’s so happy. Maybe he figures if she won’t be happy with him, at least she can be happy with someone else.”

I shook my head. “That still sounds suspiciously like growing up. Just about anyone else, I might credit it. But James?”

“Yeah, fair point,” Martha said. “But do you have a better explanation?”

James’ inexplicable behaviour continued for the best part of two months. While he was unmistakeably in a bad mood, glowered at Lance whenever they were in each other’s presence, and spent a lot of time fingering his wand and whispering to his friends, probably about what he wanted to do to Lance, he restrained himself from actually attacking him, whether blatantly or otherwise.

As the relationship wore on and it appeared Lily wouldn’t be becoming single anytime soon, however, James reverted to type and occasional mishaps would befall the other boy, such as his robes featuring a most attractive floral design in purple and green, his school bag being split in half on his way to class, or the unmistakeable effects of the Insect Jinx. You could never actually link James to any of these events as he was nowhere to be seen at the time, but no one seriously thought he didn’t have anything to do with them. Lance, for his part, steadfastly ignored it as much as he could, focusing on the fact he was having the last laugh as he was dating Lily and James wasn’t.

“At least one of us got a good result from the Yule Ball,” I said to Mary one lunchtime, watching Lily and Lance feeding each other further down the table.

Mary laughed. “Aye, she’s certainly go’ better memories from it than either o’ us. I still can’ ge’ rid o’ Gerry properly.”

I just shook my head. “You know, the more I think about that night, the more humiliated I feel. No one likes to be told they’re someone’s last choice, no matter what I think of him.”

“Especially by one who looks as goo’ as him,” she said wisely. “No, it can’ be good for yer ego.” She put an arm around me. “Bu’ a’ leas’ no one else knows that was what it was aboot. It’s just ye an’ me. An’ him an’ James, o’ course.”

“Yes, I suppose,” I said, casting an eye at the boys in question. “And there’s not much I can do about it anyway. I guess I’ll just push it to the back of my mind where it can do the least amount of damage.”

My sister, of course, provided regular distractions, almost as though she was aware of my problems and trying to make me think about other things. (I didn’t kid myself about that though – Bea would never actually be that considerate towards someone else, not even me. Not that she didn’t care, more it just wouldn’t occur to her.) As term progressed it seemed every week provided a new story about Bea and what she’d been up to. One week talk was she had Transfigured her dorm-mate Meera Patil into a stoat after they argued over who owned the empty bottle of shampoo that had been left in their bathroom. Another time she lost her temper after a quarrel with Gladys Gudgeon – elder sister of Davey – and managed to shrink the poor girl so that she was only fourteen inches tall. Each story pushed her already shonky reputation further down the social scale and people started whispering around me: “Look, there’s another Cauldwell, be careful what you say,” or “Ooh, Cauldwell’s got her wand out, anything could happen here”.

Suffice to say I was used to this as it had been happening for the best part of five years – pretty much from the moment I got off the Hogwarts Express back in first year – but it was still rather draining. _I_ knew I wasn’t about to lose control and hex someone just because I was angry with them. (If they were about to curse someone, perhaps, but not as a way of ending an argument. I liked to think I was a little more diplomatic than that.) However, Bea’s reputation took precedence over any actual evidence of my character and I was inevitably tarred with the same brush. It probably didn’t help that much of my time not spent studying was filled with attempting damage control on whatever it was she had done most recently.

“Breathe in an’ oot,” Mary said with a smile a couple of days later when I got back to Gryffindor Tower after spending yet another evening sorting Bea out. She had Transfigured Meera’s cat into a pocket watch – which wouldn’t normally have been something I would get involved in, seeing as they slept in the same dorm, only his time it happened at the dinner table. The resultant fuss Meera kicked up meant Bea was even more agitated than usual. “Jus’ remember t’ breathe, an’ ye’ll be fine.”

“I know. I keep telling myself that she’s leaving at the end of this year and I’ll be able to concentrate on my own problems for once.” I shook my head. “Several times a day, actually.”

Mary smiled broadly. “Well, if ye need a distraction, I got ye this.” She held up an ancient looking key.

I could hardly believe my eyes. “The key to the broom-shed? Mary, where did you get that?” The broom-shed was open during the day, but to dissuade students from wandering around the castle and grounds at night was locked at sunset each evening.

She just grinned. “I had Gerry show me hoo t’ ge’ it. Figured if he was goin’ t’ be hangin’ aroond all the time I might as well pu’ him t’ good use.”

“Mary Macdonald, I think I love you.” Trust her to think of getting access to the broom-shed key from Gerry Stebbins, who was on the Ravenclaw Quidditch team, even if she couldn’t stand him. Although only Quidditch captains were supposed to have access to the key, most people knew that in practice just about anyone on their House team would be able to get hold of it.

In any case I took the key from her and hurried downstairs, hoping to get a dozen or so laps of the Quidditch pitch in by moonlight, to clear my head and make me feel slightly less murderous towards my sister.

The teachers were also helping take my mind off Bea by setting enough homework to push just about everything to the back of my mind. Every week seemed to result in yet another eighteen-inch essay or practical assignment, and this side of Christmas the staff were even more determined to remind us our OWL exams were approaching more rapidly than perhaps we realised. And I had to admit that now the calendar had turned over to 1976 it did feel closer than it had previously, and more than one student was taken to the hospital wing suffering from stress or some other related issue.

In this atmosphere it was a relief to have just about any diversion, even when it came in the guise of a prank by James and his friends, possibly carried out as a means of taking his mind off Lily’s continuing relationship with Lance. It took place in late February when the castle was being buffeted by gale-force winds and students were all forced inside during break periods.

On the day in question I was with Mary in a disused classroom on the first floor, which was serving as a venue for the purposes of both escaping the hopeful advances of Gerry (who had cornered Mary after we left Potions), and attempting to get some extra study in before we headed to Defence Against the Dark Arts after lunch. Our quiet revision was suddenly disrupted by what sounded like a cat being tortured, the noise magnified and broadcast throughout the castle, and we rushed out into the corridor to find out what the matter was.

“Soonds lik’ a Caterwaulin’ Charm,” Mary muttered as we hurried towards the marble staircase that went down to the Entrance Hall, which seemed to be where the noise was coming from. When we arrived there we just stood at the top of the stairs, transfixed.

I should say we stood at the top of what used to be the stairs. The magnificent staircase had been transformed into a marble slide, rather like the stairs leading to the girls’ dormitories in Gryffindor Tower would if a boy tried to go up them. But not only was it a marble slide, but it was a marble slide that flashed a different colour every second, and anyone who tried to go down it suddenly found themselves with a red, hooked nose, curly green hair and draped in a Gryffindor Quidditch banner.

This last item of course wouldn’t exactly count as punishment to us, but it seemed a couple of sixth-year Slytherins had unwittingly been the first subjects of this particular charm, and they looked less than impressed with their new outfits which they couldn’t remove no matter how they tried. Frankly it was hilarious, though we did appreciate we wouldn’t have liked it much if the tables had been turned and we’d been forced into Slytherin garb.

Before long it seemed like most of the school were gathered either at the top or bottom of the slide, Mary noting with satisfaction that Gerry was stuck at the bottom. Professor McGonagall appeared shortly after Mary and I did, her eyebrows very close together and her lips as thin as I had seen them. Her appearance was duly noted by James and Sirius, who were standing together at the bottom of the slide with a large stopwatch each.

“Twenty-one seconds for McGonagall or Dumbledore,” said Sirius, a broad smile on his face. “That’s one of our best results yet.”

James looked around and clicked his watch to stop too. “And just about the whole school here by thirty-seven seconds. Nice.”

Sirius shook his head. “Still not as good as that time we Vanished the Slytherin table just before dinner. That time we had the whole school in eighteen seconds.”

“To be fair, though,” James said, ignoring McGonagall who had rather quickly turned the slide back into the elegant staircase it really was, “it was almost a mealtime, so those times shouldn’t really count.”

“You’re the boss,” said Sirius, shrugging. He then looked up and pretended he had only just realised McGonagall had reached them. “Why, Professor McGonagall! What a pleasant surprise!”

They were successful in distracting us from OWLs for a couple of hours, but they also got themselves detentions and lost about fifty points for Gryffindor, which pushed us down to the bottom of the race for the House Cup again. Appropriately chastened, they announced in the common room that night they were swearing off pranking for a while, or at least any major pranking, in the hope Gryffindor could get the points back more quickly. We were all a bit sceptical as to how long this resolution would last, but I think I can speak for just about all of Gryffindor House when I say it was a welcome one.

****

Care of Magical Creatures had become much less interesting since the episode with Charon Avery at the start of the year. Professor Kettleburn kept a very close eye on his students, which had the desired effect of having no further incidents, but also meant we were studying less interesting creatures as he didn’t want to spend too much time trying to control them.

Occasionally, however, Kettleburn would call on the groundskeeper, Hagrid, to offer a helping hand, especially as Kettleburn had only one left of his own. Hagrid lived in a wooden cottage just by the forbidden forest, and appeared to have a keen interest in the more dangerous magical creatures. I’d never really spoken to him but it appeared several people in my year knew him reasonably well. James, Sirius, Remus and Peter would regularly call out to him as they passed his cottage, and even Lily and Charlotte had been known to visit for a cup of tea or some rock cakes, though Lily confided to us that these last items had much more in common with rocks than with cakes.

Hagrid was a giant of a man, at least ten feet tall and probably three feet wide, which was most probably why I’d not had much to do with him. He was rather intimidating at first sight, though I had noticed a twinkle in his eyes that indicated he probably wasn’t as hostile as he appeared. However, I’d got through the best part of five years at the school without really getting to know him, so to start now felt a little pointless.

Anyway, Hagrid joined the class one day in mid-spring to help Professor Kettleburn teach us about fire crabs.

“Why do ye think he’s brough’ him in?” Mary asked, looking doubtfully at the giant man hovering around James and Sirius. “Kettleburn can handle fire crabs alrigh’, can’ he?”

Kettleburn did have several physical incapacities, most probably due to his line of work, but fire crabs were hardly difficult by magical creature standards. After all, we’d looked at Augerys and Clabberts the previous year, both of which were harder to handle. “Maybe he’s worried we’ll set them on each other,” I said, my eyes flicking between James and Avery, who were watching each other malevolently.

“Aye, goo’ poin’,” Mary said. “The boys haven’ forgiven Avery fer using an Unforgivable, have they?”

“Well, should they?” For once I was absolutely on the boys’ side. Unforgivable Curses were, well, unforgivable. They had that name for a reason.

“No, they shouldn’.” Mary plainly shared my opinion as she glared across the lawn at Avery.

Hagrid left James and Sirius after a while, moving among the other students and giving some additional tips on how to feed and clean out a fire crab without sustaining serious burns, which would apparently come up in our OWLs at the end of the year. After a while though he returned to them and the boys appeared to be enjoying themselves immensely, perhaps in part due to the fact that the presence of such a huge and intimidating man in the class meant Avery, or any of the Slytherins for that matter, couldn’t do anything to them without getting caught. (I was under the distinct impression Kettleburn had in fact wanted Hagrid to shadow Avery instead but really, would you issue orders to a ten-foot man who regularly carried a giant crossbow?)

In any case Hagrid’s remarks, accompanied by Kettleburn’s excellent teaching, meant we all had the technique down pat by the end of the lesson and the fire crabs were happily fed and cleaned. Only Elsie Barkwith, the Slytherin prefect, had sustained any significant burns at all, and we were generally feeling pretty good about ourselves.

That night at dinner I settled down to another meal and a nice long gossip with Mary, both of which were pretty much par for the course, particularly when we’d had the final lesson of the day apart.

“How was Muggle Studies?” I asked as I loaded up my plate with lamb chops, jacket potatoes, peas and gravy.

“Passable,” she said. “We started on Governance an’ Law Enforcemen’ – so ye shoul’ be able t’ help me oot fer the nex’ assignmen’.”

I grinned. “Yeah, I’d say I could do that,” I said, wondering just how the Muggle system of law enforcement would be taught. “Let me know if you want me to write to Mum about anything.”

“Aye, o’ course,” she said, through a mouthful of roast chicken. “Do ye have summit I can have a read of, as a start?”

I thought about that. “Not here, but there’s bound to be something at home. I’ll ask her to send something up.” Mum as a police officer would be able to provide all sorts of information once she knew what Mary’s study topic was, and she was always more than happy to help.  I took a bite of my lamb chop but spat out a large bit of gristle almost immediately. “They couldn’t spring for some decent cuts, could they?” I went on rhetorically. “I mean, how much dearer is Welsh lamb anyway?”

I was interrupted by a loud bang at the Ravenclaw table, followed by a cloud of blue smoke that billowed up to the roof of the hall, which today was showing the beginnings of a storm. The room was immediately in uproar as everyone tried to see through the smoke to work out what had happened. Soon enough, though, the smoke cleared and I realised with a sinking heart my sister was again at the heart of it. With her friends Sturgis and Cynthia, she had obviously tried out a spell they had invented and it had backfired, leaving the girl sitting opposite Bea with scorched hair and horns growing out of her ears.

Professor Flitwick, the head of Ravenclaw House, was shaking his head as he moved quickly from the staff table to the centre of the disruption – he’d probably had enough of putting out her fires over the years, and this time it looked like he might have to do so literally, as the poor girl’s head was still smoking.

I looked at Mary. “Maybe I should go over and offer to help,” I said, resigned to the fact I would indeed be doing just that.

She nodded and rolled her eyes. “Maybe ye shoul’. Ye’re better a’ sortin’ her oot than anyone else.”

Abandoning the chops on my plate, I picked up a Cornish pasty to take with me and downed my pumpkin juice, then headed over to Professor Flitwick. “Want me to have a word with her?”

He looked up at me, a surprised and gratified expression on his face as he finished dousing the hair of Bea’s unfortunate victim. “Thank you, Miss Cauldwell, I’d appreciate that. No one can calm her down quite as well as you can.”

I walked around to the other side of the table and sat down next to Bea, smiling thankfully at the person next to her who shuffled down a bit so I could squeeze in. “What happened?”

“Spell backfired.”

“What was it supposed to do?”

“Gubraithian fire on the head. I don’t know where those horns came from.” She looked genuinely mystified.

“And why were you trying to do that at the dinner table?”

Bea shrugged. “Something to do.”

“And this girl did what?” I indicated the girl, now without horns but still with burned hair and smoke coming out of her ears, deep in conversation with Professor Flitwick. She wouldn’t have been older than third year.

“Nothing. She was just in the way.”

I shook my head sternly. “That’s not good enough, Bea. You know better than to cast spells arbitrarily like that, especially on younger students. Imagine what Mum and Dad will say.”

“Nothing, because you’re not going to tell them.” She smiled hopefully.

She was right, but only because she got into so many skirmishes that to detail them all would take over my entire correspondence home. I just shook my head again.

“I may not, but do you really think Professor Flitwick won’t be sending them an owl? You know they get told everything.”

She scowled at me. “I thought you were supposed to be calming me down, not telling me off. Now start calming, girl!”

“Right you are. And what would Madam like first, a back massage or a foot rub?”

Bea pretended to take me seriously and looked up at the ceiling, her finger in her mouth in a thinking pose. Sturgis, sitting next to the girl with the smoking hair, took the bait and cast me an envious look. “How come she gets a back massage? I did just as much as she did! I might even be able to figure out where the horns came from!” He ran a hand through his hair and gave me a gap-toothed smile.

I laughed. “Don’t be daft, Sturgis, no one’s getting a back massage. Or a foot rub. I was just winding her up.” I had never been completely sure Sturgis didn’t have a thing for me so I was very keen to nip any possible misinterpretations in the bud. I mean, I might be desperate but I would never be _that_ desperate.

“Again,” Bea said, “you’re supposed to be calming me down. Winding me up is _not_ calming me down.”

I rolled my eyes. “Okay okay, you’ve talked me into it. If you’ve finished your meal, how about we just get you back to your dorm.”

She looked scandalised. “And just how do you think you’re going to get entry to the Ravenclaw common room, young Gryffie?”

“Same way I always do. Answer that sodding door-knocker’s question. Now come on, you’ll do less damage there.”


	7. The agony aunt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laura is called upon to deal with the most recent offerings from Dione Turpin and a rather vindictive Severus Snape, and hears some rather unpleasant home truths from Elvira, of all people. But how is she supposed to concentrate on all that and decide on a career as well?

 

Whether it was because I was so used to dealing with Bea or for some other reason I didn’t know, I was finding more and more people I barely knew were coming to see me to sort out their problems. The older I got the more it was happening, as I found later that week when I left the Great Hall after supper.

“All right, Laura?” came a voice behind me, and I turned to see Veronica Smethley, fifth-year Hufflepuff, hurrying to catch up with me. I didn’t know Veronica very well but what I did know I liked, as she was easy to talk to and hardly had a bad word to say about anyone.

“Hi Veronica,” I said, slowing down so she could catch up. “What’s up?”

She just shook her head and groaned. “Dione Turpin’s what’s up.” Ah, yes, Dione was one person she did have a bad word to say about.

I laughed. “What’s she been saying this time?”

She fell into step with me, both of us taking a wide berth around Peeves, who was hovering above a staircase leading downstairs and singing a rather rude song at the top of his voice. “You mean, aside from shouting to the world she’s bagged Sirius Black?”

“That’s right, how could I forget? Apparently this time it’s true love, if you credit her side of it.”

Veronica snorted derisively. “Yeah, right, true love for a couple of sixteen year olds who’ve been together all of a week or two. Let me guess – he’s not saying the same thing?”

I shrugged. “I barely know the bloke. But no, I don’t think he is. But that’s not what you wanted to talk about, is it?”

She grinned. “You’re right, gossiping about who Dione is shagging at the moment isn’t high on my list of priorities. But she’s had a go at me and Clio now so we need to go into damage control.”

We wandered into an empty classroom. “What’s the story?”

She giggled suddenly. “Lesbian love affair.”

“Right. And are you?”

“What, having an affair? I don’t think so.”

I grinned broadly. “Just checking. It’s much harder to deny something if it’s true.”

She sat down on a dusty table. “So what do we do about it?”

“You want my advice?” That was unusual, people normally just liked to talk and needed a sympathetic ear.

She looked surprised. “Of course. Why else would I be here?”

I let it slide and changed the subject. “Out of curiosity, when did the rumour start?”

She considered. “Yesterday, I think. Or maybe the day before. Why?”

“It’s just unusual she’d be feeling so threatened by you if she’s found true love with the catch of the school.” I frowned – this didn’t feel right at all. “What have you done that would have brought it on?”

She coloured slightly. “Well, if it’s not true love, as we suspect, and she’s worried she won’t be able to hang onto him, then I think she wants to get Clio off the radar as a potential rival.” Veronica’s best friend, Clio Zeller, was a pretty black-haired girl who was probably striking enough to catch the eye of someone like Sirius, so there could be something in that theory.

From the look on Veronica’s face she obviously considered she might be seen as a rival too – after all, she _had_ attended the Yule Ball with James Potter, which meant she had to be fairly high up on the attractiveness scale – but I decided not to mention that. Quite possibly, like half the school, she had a latent crush on the boy, and I suspected there may well have been some flirting involved (and perhaps even reciprocated) before the rumour started. Which would explain things quite nicely, I decided.

“Right,” was what I actually said out loud, deciding I’d just suggest she do what I did when confronted with Bea-inspired assumptions about me. “Well, if it was me, I’d just ignore it. Most people will recognise it as a Turpin Tale and not believe it anyway.”

She coloured even more. “But what if some people do believe it?” I was getting surer by the minute that my hunch was right, and this was more to do with Sirius than Dione.

“Let them. If they want to believe it, then anything you say will just be taken as evidence it’s true. And let’s face it,” I said with a smile, deliberately riling her up a bit, “for some of the boys, it’s more likely to be a turn-on than anything else. You could always run with it and see where it takes you.”

She was so red she looked rather like a Quaffle with blonde curls by now, but pretended to shake it off. “You’re probably right,” she said eventually. “If I challenge it then people will just say, ‘the truth hurts’ or something like that, won’t they?”

I nodded. “If they think of it.”

“Right. So we ignore it and see where things go. And with any luck, Queen Dione will be the one who suffers from it.”

“Right you are,” I said. “Good luck.”

“Thanks, Laura,” she said briefly and, picking up her bag in one swift movement, was gone.

In keeping with the agony aunt theme, Elvira Vablatsky decided to come to the party, catching up with me when I was heading to the library after double Potions one morning. “Laura, can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” I said. “What’s up?” I thought I might know, but it was always good manners to appear interested.

“Sirius,” she said, confirming my theory. “You’re in Gryffindor. You know him.”

I groaned. “I’m in Gryffindor, but I wouldn’t exactly say I know him. Until the Yule Ball I think we’d only exchanged about five words in five years.” I’d told her that before but it never seemed to sink in. Plus, I thought he was a bit of a berk and wasn’t all that keen on knowing him any better, so our intimacy levels weren’t likely to improve in the immediate future.

“But you’re in Gryffindor,” she repeated, sounding like a broken record. “So you’re in the same common room as him.”

I couldn’t argue with that. “Well, yes, we do share a common room.” _Rather unfortunately_ , I added in my head, having just that morning been forced to make a rapid escape after he and James had let loose a couple of Cornish pixies, “just to see what happens”. (Why couldn’t they do things like that in the Slytherin common room like normal people would? If anyone knew where it was it would be them, and it would have been so much funnier.)

“And you’re in most of his classes,” she went on. We’d reached the library by now and I headed to my favourite corner to find an empty table. Elvira followed me, putting her own books down next to mine. It looked like she was in for the long haul.

“Yeah, I guess I am.” I said. Thinking about it, Ancient Runes was the only subject I had that he wasn’t in (and, oddly enough, it was the quietest. I wonder if there was a correlation there?). Elvira, if she realised that, would be especially jealous.

“So you know him,” she repeated, lowering her voice only marginally in deference to our location. “And you might know what his taste in girls is. I want to know what I can do to improve my chances.”

I gave her a look. “He’s got a girlfriend already, or haven’t you noticed?”

Elvira waved a hand impatiently. “That won’t last. Come on, it’s Dione.”

I didn’t usually encourage her, but this was too much fun not to take further. “She’s saying it’s true love. Are you telling me you don’t believe her?”

She looked worried suddenly. “Do you?”

I shrugged. “Well, I don’t have any real reason not to …”

Elvira caught her breath, her eyes wide. “Really? But …”

I smiled, enjoying myself immensely. “But what?”

Suddenly, though, she seemed to see reason and shook her head. “No. No one believes it. I don’t think you do either.”

Darn. And it was going so well. “What I believe doesn’t matter,” I said. “And in any case, how on earth would I know how to improve your chances?

“But you must. Think about it.”

I hesitated, having a fair idea what she was doing wrong but being just as sure she wouldn’t like to hear it. “Are you sure you want to know? What if you don’t like it?”

“Hit me,” she said. “I can take it.”

“Okay then,” I said. “Assuming it’s not true love, then once they do break up I think your best bet would be if you stopped throwing yourself at him. Drop it off a bit. He already knows you’re interested, he doesn’t need it shoved down his throat at every given opportunity.” I took a breath, watching her. Her eyes had narrowed and she didn’t exactly look appreciative. “Just try to be yourself around him. You’re a nice person. Let him see that, be someone that people like, and maybe he’ll like you. It might just work.”

She raised her eyebrows. “That’s your advice?”

“Yes, it is. Like it or lump it.”

“Well, yes, of course, because that strategy is working so well for you right now, isn’t it?” she said snidely. “You’re just inundated with offers of dates. I can see them lining up outside the library as we speak.”

I blinked. If she’d meant to hurt me, it had worked – the barb stung because it was true. It had taken me forever to get a date for the Yule Ball, and at the ball itself I was humiliated by someone who danced with me on a dare, because there was no other way anyone would ever ask me.

“Well, if that’s what you think,” I said, “why did you ask me for advice in the first place?”

“Because you always seem to notice everything. I thought you might actually have some insight.” And without another word, she picked up her books and left.

Well. That would be the last time I flattered _her_ with rational thought.

I sat there in stunned silence, watching her go, my mind going over my entire romantic history. Which, for someone who had just turned sixteen, was very poor by anyone’s standards. I’d dated Cadmus Bragge for about four months early in fourth year, which had been entirely unremarkable. And that was it. Not even a holiday fling over summer. Hector hadn’t shown any real interest in me at the Yule Ball and had barely spoken to me since. Sharing classes with Lily, Martha and Charlotte generally meant no one gave me – or Mary, for that matter – a second glance. And having that said so harshly by someone like Elvira wasn’t exactly pleasant.

My brood was interrupted when Remus Lupin crossed my line of vision and sat down in the chair Elvira had vacated a minute or so previously.

“Hi,” he said with a small smile. I looked at him but didn’t return it. “Look, I heard what she said,” he said, indicating the direction in which Elvira had disappeared.

“Come to tell me she’s right?” I didn’t mean to snap – Remus had always been remarkably nice considering who his best friends were – but it just came out, an indication of how I was feeling.

“Actually, I came to tell you she’s wrong. I heard what you said to her and you were spot on. And I think she knows that, too, but doesn’t want to admit it. Which is why she had a go at you like that.”

“But it’s not working for me,” I said rather sourly. “She was right.”

He shook his head. “She was being especially harsh. Don’t take it personally. You might notice her method isn’t particularly successful either. And you’re not the subject of general ridicule from the rest of the school.”

I paused, thinking about it. What he said made sense. I looked at him. “Why are you saying this?”

“Because you’re the last one who should be getting an inferiority complex from someone like Elvira Vablatsky,” he said evenly. “You’re too nice a person and she’s not worth getting worked up over. She’s caused enough trouble at this school already.”

Finally I smiled. “Thanks. I do feel better. Still unattractive, but better.”

He grinned back. “Don’t feel unattractive. Anyone who thinks that just doesn’t know you yet.” And before I could think about what that could possibly mean, he stood up and walked away.

****

The avalanche of homework we were now being set succeeded in pushing all thoughts of Veronica, Dione, Elvira and Remus from my mind, and I threw myself into study in preparation for our upcoming exams. Everyone hoped to make the most of our Potions lesson a couple of days later when we started work on Memory Potions, as we all intended to sample the finished product so we could have a head start on studying for our OWLs. Unfortunately the class ended up being a bit of a shambles, which started when Scylla Pritchard mishandled her dragon liver and it ended up flying across the room and hitting Charlotte square in the face. This led to a dragon liver fight with people hurling them around the dungeon every time Professor Slughorn looked away, and before long most of us had green stains on our faces and robes from the dragon blood.

Things were going along swimmingly (except the potions we were supposed to be making, oddly enough) when Lily decided to up the ante by hurling her liver directly at Slughorn, who looked up just as she let go and watched with surprise as it landed on his desk. He picked it up and held it out in front of him, roaring with laughter.

“Excellent throw, Lily,” he chortled, his eyes twinkling as he handed the liver back to her. “But you must be careful, you know, as if it’s too bruised it won’t work in the potion.”

Of course he’d behave like that to Lily, and she made the most of it by looking mildly contrite even though her eyes danced merrily. She had always been his particular favourite and he indulged her at every opportunity, and she played this for all it was worth.

Needless to say, as soon as Slughorn’s back was turned the fight was back on in earnest, and we made enough noise for him to even notice people who weren’t in the Slug Club. Mary and I, who hadn’t participated any more (or less) than anyone else, were chosen rather arbitrarily for detentions for our involvement in the skirmish, to be held the following evening in Dungeon Four.

We fronted obediently at the required time and giggled to ourselves when Professor Slughorn got our names wrong once again. (Lisa Coyle, anyone?) The detention itself was a breeze, our task being to each take a ten-gallon bottle of armadillo bile and measure it into small one fluid ounce phials for use in Potions class. Slughorn explained the school preferred to purchase it in bulk despite his frequent protests that decanting it into smaller phials was a waste of his time – time which he thought could be better spent, I was sure, indulging in his weaknesses for crystallised pineapple and mulled mead. Because it was a detention we had to complete the task without magic, but it was the sort of thing you can do on automatic once you get started, so we had a good gossip in the process. After a couple of hours, we’d finished and were given permission to leave.

We bade farewell to Slughorn and headed upstairs. “Tha’ wasn’ too ba’,” Mary said. “Now, did ye coont hoo many differen’ names he called ye?” This was a regular game we played, based on Slughorn’s ignorance of anyone not in the Slug Club.

I laughed. “Three, from memory: Coyle, Cavanagh, Connell. All Irish. I mean, I knew I still had an accent, but oddly enough I thought it was Welsh. How about you?”

“Four,” she said, furrowing her brow as she listed them off. “Macdermott, Macdougal, McDaniel, O’Donnell. Bit of a mixture there, Scottish an’ Irish. Maybe he has a thing fer the Emerald Isle?”

“That could be why Fin Quigley is in the Slug Club,” I said with a giggle. “Old Slughorn just lurves that accent.” Quigley, a Gryffindor in the year below us and Beater on the Quidditch team, was from Galway and had one of the thickest Irish brogues I’d ever heard.

We were on ground level and approaching the marble staircase when suddenly, seemingly from nowhere, James, Sirius, Remus and Peter appeared just around a corner, their fingers to their mouths to keep us quiet. Eyebrows raised, we followed their gaze to see Severus Snape, walking furtively as though looking for something. We could see Snape and the Gryffindors, but they couldn’t see each other, so we were perfectly positioned.

I figured Snape thought he hadn’t been detected, whatever he was doing, and so decided to make sure he knew he’d been sprung. “Oh, look Mary,” I drawled, stopping so we would stay in our brilliant spot. “Snivellus.” I pulled my wand out lazily.

Severus almost jumped out of his skin with surprise. “What are you doing out of Gryffindor Tower so late?” he snarled, his own wand already out.

“Detention,” Mary said. “What are you doin’ oot?”

He ignored the question and eyed us shrewdly. “Where’s Potter?”

We feigned surprise. “Potter?”

“I know he’s here somewhere,” Snape said almost viciously. “Him and Black and those other two that keep hanging off them like handbags.”

“Sorry,” Mary said, her eyes staying on Severus though I was sure she was very conscious of the boys sniggering silently around the corner. “Haven’ seen them. They weren’t in our detention, if tha’s what ye’re asking. Though, wi’ their track recor’, I can understan’ why ye’d think they were.”

Snape just glared at us, most probably guessing we weren’t being entirely truthful. “I’ll find out what they’re up to. Then they’ll pay.”

This sounded rather ominous but as we didn’t have a clue what he was on about we had to let it slide. “Well, Snivellus,” Mary said, “if tha’s all we’ve go’ t’ ge’ back. As should ye – I’d hate fer ye t’ be caugh’ oot o’ boonds after curfew.” It was a veiled threat we would go to the first staff member we saw and advise them of Snape’s antics. He blanched at the implication.

“But you won’t tell anyone about Potter and Black being out.”

“We can’t,” I lied, “seeing as we haven’t seen them. We’ve only seen you. But I’m sure Professor McGonagall would be very interested to hear you’ve been trying to blame them for your own indiscretions.” I looked at him pointedly and headed towards the main staircase, indicating the conversation was over. Behind us, I could hear Snape scuttling off in the direction of the dungeon we’d just come from.

Once we could no longer hear him, James Potter appeared suddenly from thin air, grinning broadly. “Thanks, girls, that was a scream.”

“What was it all aboot?” Mary asked, obviously choosing to ignore his rather unorthodox way of showing himself.

“We were just heading to the kitchens for a late night snack. Nothing out of the ordinary. Snivellus was trying to get us expelled again.”

“Again?” My eyebrows rose. “Then this sort of thing happens often?”

“You could say that,” he said carelessly. “Anyway, we had it covered, but you two were the icing on the cake. Last thing he was expecting. It was most entertaining.” He grinned at us, his hazel eyes sparkling behind his glasses.

“I’m a wee bi’ surprised we go’ oot o’ it wi’oot growing tentacles or summit,” Mary said. “He did have his wand oot an’ all.”

James shook his head. “Nah, that was for us. He wouldn’t hex you.”

“Why no’?” Mary looked surprised.

“You room with Lily.” I noticed he referred to her by her first name, even though he always addressed her as Evans. Probably it was much like we did with them. “Old Snivelly wouldn’t want anything like that getting back to her.”

We nodded: this did explain it. As long as Snape thought he had a chance with Lily, he wouldn’t jinx any of her friends. Or dorm-mates, for that matter. At least, not so she might find out about it.

****

The Easter holidays were a two-week drama of Bea fretting about her NEWTs. She was taking most of the more difficult subjects and found it much harder than she had anticipated to stay on top of things. I had a sneaking suspicion it had a lot to do with the fact that previously she’d just swanned through without really studying, but had now reached her limit and wasn’t familiar enough with even the concept of study and revision to be able to use it to her best advantage. I had to help her draw up revision timetables and even explain the best ways to help refresh her memory of what she had learned over the past two years, and I suspected Dad would soon be looking to buy shares in Bobbin’s Apothecary in an effort to recoup some of what he was spending on Calming Draughts.

This all meant, of course, that my own revision fell behind somewhat, and the homework I’d been assigned over the holidays fell by the wayside as I helped Bea through her tempests. In the end I had to cram as much into the last couple of days as I could, trying to finish some rather hefty assignments for Potions, Charms and Transfiguration.

I got back to school, my rather shoddy essays in tow, to find the common room full of pamphlets detailing different employment options for our perusal. This indicated we would shortly need to start thinking about what we would do with our lives, and we spent countless hours poring over them in a vain attempt to decide what we might possibly want to do once our schooling was over. Shortly afterwards notices went up on the notice board in the common room saying we were to meet with our Head of House to discuss our future careers prospects.

“Wha’ are ye thinking?” Mary asked as she flicked through a pamphlet entitled _So You Want To Work With Dragons_.

“Not that,” I said, indicating her choice. “Care of Magical Creatures can go jump as far as I’m concerned.”

She laughed. “Aye, I think I agree. Hoo aboot this? You do Runes.” She picked up _Wizarding Archaeology And What It Means_.

I shook my head and found one called _Working With Muggles – What You Need To Know_. “You do Muggle Studies. What about this one?”

“Uh – maybe no’,” she said. “Though you coul’ do it, wha’ wi’ yer Ma an’ all.”

“No, I don’t think so. This one could be a possibility though.” I had just seen _Do You Have What It Takes To Be A Healer?_ “What do you think?”

She nodded, her expression turning serious. “Aye, I can see ye as a Healer. Ye migh’ wan’ t’ pick up yer grades though.”

“Oh yeah. That.” I put the Healer pamphlet back down, not at all sure my Potions ability would be up to scratch, and looked around at some of the other options. “I guess that rules out teaching as well.”

Mary grinned. “Ye coul’ teach Herbology. Yer good a’ that. Me, I’d be strugglin’ t’ even find a speciality.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” I said, grinning too as I picked up another pamphlet. “Maybe training security trolls could be your thing.”

“I’d have a better chance o’ gettin’ a job a’ Gringotts,” she said with a grimace. “An’ we all know hoo har’ tha’ is t’ get int’.”

“I give up,” I said, throwing _Have You Considered the Goblin Liaison Office?_ down on the table. “I’ll just apply for a random Ministry position and be done with it. What do you think?”

Mary nodded fervently. “Aye, I think that’s the bes’ idea a’ this stage. There are too many other things t’ think aboot wi’oot this on top o’ it all.”

My appointment with Professor McGonagall was set for ten o’clock in the morning on Wednesday, meaning I would miss part of Herbology. I suspected the early time was due to my surname beginning with a C, which was confirmed when I bumped into Sirius, the only Gryffindor before me in the alphabet, who was leaving her office when I arrived. True to expectations, he looked at me and then looked away as though I didn’t exist. In other words, much the same as usual.

“Good morning, Miss Cauldwell,” McGonagall said cheerfully when I knocked on the open door. “Come in, come in. Have a biscuit.”

I sat on the only available chair and watched with surprise as she took the lid off a tartan tin and offered me a ginger newt. I’d never thought of McGonagall as the type to offer biscuits to visitors to her office, but she did appear insistent and I felt it would be rude to say no. I sat there in silence, munching on the biscuit as she launched into her spiel.

“Choosing your career is a very important decision,” she was saying. “You need to ensure your choice is something you can realistically achieve while still being challenging enough for you to enjoy it. Have you had a chance to think about it yet, Miss Cauldwell?”

I blinked. That was quicker than I’d anticipated and I was now expected to spout off my preferred career choices. Trouble was, I had no idea what they were.

“I’ve had a look, Professor, but I haven’t decided yet. What do you think I’d be good at?”

She gave me a rare smile. “I must say, Miss Cauldwell, it is rather refreshing to not have a student come straight in and say they want to be an Auror. At the moment that is becoming increasingly common, and unfortunately not everyone has the temperament for it.” From the look on her face it seemed rather likely her previous interviewee had automatically nominated that very job as his preferred career choice. Though, thinking about that, from what I knew of him he’d probably be good at it. Me, on the other hand, not so much.

She paused, flicking through the pile of parchment on her desk to find the right page. “Your grades are generally good in the core subjects,” she said, “though you might want to try a little harder with Transfiguration and Potions if you are to progress to NEWT level. If you are able to keep those subjects you will find you have significantly more options available to you at the end of your schooling.” She paused. “Unless you particularly want to, I see no reason for you to continue with History of Magic or Astronomy. Your grades are comparatively poor and they would probably not assist very well in your employment prospects.”

She paused again, looking at me over her glasses. “You’re good at listening, Miss Cauldwell, you are logical and you have good powers of deduction. If you keep Transfiguration, Charms and Potions to NEWT level you will probably make a fine diagnostic Healer. Of course, NEWTs in all of the core subjects will give you much greater choice when the time comes, as many occupations require one or more of them.” She gave me a sharp look. “Do you think you could get your marks up for those?”

I nodded. “I think I could, Professor. What about the electives?”

“Hmm, you are taking Ancient Runes and Care of Magical Creatures. Unless you are to try for a more specialised occupation like archaeology or manticore breeding, I don’t think it matters from the careers perspective if you keep those up. However, as I said, the core subjects of Charms, Potions, Herbology and Transfiguration will do you well. You may also wish to continue in Defence Against the Dark Arts.” She looked up as I nodded vigorously. “Do I take it you intend to continue in that subject?”

“Absolutely, Professor,” I said with feeling. “In this day and age, I think it’s essential.”

“Very wise. You will need an Exceeds Expectations to continue with that into NEWT level studies, but you are averaging a low E at the moment so if you persist with your current efforts you should have no problems.”

“Thank you,” I said, smiling. “So the message is, work hard in Potions and Transfiguration and I should have quite a few options at the end of NEWTs.”

“That’s right,” she said. “Thank you, Miss Cauldwell, you may go.”

The interview was over, and it had been less traumatic than I’d thought. I had always thought having Professor McGonagall as my Head of House was a bit of a curse rather than a blessing – I’d expected to be put in Hufflepuff where my father and cousins had been, and their Head of House was Professor Sprout, who was much warmer and more maternal. However, I had the feeling she may not have startled me enough to get my marks up for Potions and Transfiguration the way McGonagall had, and that was McGonagall at her most gentle. Really, for my future prospects, Gryffindor probably was a better bet for me.


	8. Good reasons to ditch Astronomy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A very annoying Astronomy lesson and a couple of break-ups. And Hogwarts discovers Levicorpus … but since when has Remus Lupin been so easy to talk to?

At quarter to twelve that night we all left the common room and traipsed across the castle to the Astronomy Tower. I had always found Astronomy rather boring, but conscientious as ever Mary and I had still completed our star charts and prepared to spend an hour in the cold night air looking through telescopes.

Unfortunately, the Canis Major constellation was visible that night and Professor Dobbs spent a fair proportion of the class discussing it. This constellation’s principal star was known as Sirius, which the boys thought was hilarious and shamelessly disrupted the lesson with their patently immature puns and giggles.

The lesson was worse than even we had expected, the jokes apparently connected with the fact the boys had returned from the Easter holidays addressing each other with strange nicknames, which seemed to have an animal bent to them. (Aside from Remus’ rather odd nickname of Moony, which he’d been saddled with for some time.) It appeared to be their own secret code, an in-joke to which the rest of us weren’t privy, and it made life a little more difficult as we were never entirely sure who they were talking about.

“Canis Majoris, or Sirius,” said Dobbs, making a point of ignoring James and his friends, “is known as the dog star.”

The boys high-fived each other amid raucous laughter, and it was at least a couple of minutes before the class could continue. None of us could figure out what was so funny – everyone knew that Canis Majoris was known as both Sirius and the dog star, and this was just a recap.

Professor Dobbs waited impatiently for the boys to settle down. “It is visible during summer and has been said to be prominent during extremely hot weather, which is why very hot days are often called dog days. Now, if you turn your telescope to these co-ordinates” – and she gave them – “you will notice it is very bright at the moment, despite the weather being rather mild.” She paused, casting a weary eye at Sirius, who was grinning broadly and had clearly enjoyed being referred to, however obliquely, as both bright and hot.

“Canis Majoris,” Professor Dobbs continued cautiously, obviously determined not to mention the star’s alternative name again, “due to its brightness, was an object of wonder and veneration to many ancient civilisations throughout human history. The Ancient Greeks however saw it as a bad omen, believing it caused plants to wilt, men to weaken, and women to become aroused.” She gave up as they boys as they collapsed into uncontrollable laughter. Apparently the description of Sirius as both an object of wonder and veneration and a source of women’s arousal was too much for them to ignore.

“Tha’ was a nightmare,” said Mary as we wandered back to Gryffindor Tower after class. “If she’d mentioned tha’ ruddy star one more time, I’d have thumped her myself.”

“Probably safer than thumping him,” I said.

“Ye’re no’ wrong there. Bu’ honestly, hoo much longer ca’ they go on lik’ tha’?”

“It wouldn’t have been so bad if it wasn’t true,” I said quietly. “But he is bright, he is hot, and he is an object of wonder and veneration. As for causing women to become aroused, well you just have to look at Elvira for evidence there.”

Mary groaned. “Thank goodness we don’ have Astronomy wi’ th’ Ravenclaws. Can ye imagine what i’ woul’ have bin lik’?”

“I don’t want to think about it. Her and Greta in the same class as that sort of commentary? It would be a nightmare. Do you think Dobbs will use that same phrase with the other class?”

“I doubt it,” Mary said. “She mus’ have learnt no’ to wi’ our class.  An’ it’s a goo’ reason fer droppin’ Astronomy nex’ year. Ye’re no’ keepin’ it up, are ye?”

I shook my head. “No, and partly for that very reason. That and it’s boring as all hell. McGonagall just said to focus on Potions and Transfiguration, so I’ll be doing that.”

She nodded. “Aye, I’m droppin’ it too. Anything t’ stop hearin’ aboot tha’ ruddy dug star again.”

Soon enough we had made it through to mid-May without killing anyone or keeling over with OWLs-related anxiety, but with everything else going on it seemed to be a bad time for relationships. Whether it was because of the stress of upcoming exams, or whether everyone had sampled some Hate Potions or what it might have been we weren’t sure, but everyone seemed to be breaking up.

The first casualties were Lily and Lance Savage, who had been together since the Yule Ball and seemed to be going great guns, despite frequent attempts by James Potter and Dione Turpin to sabotage the relationship. In fact, we thought that Lance most probably deserved a medal for getting through the number of jinxes and hexes he had been subjected to since the middle of February when James had got himself organised.

“Yes, I am a bit upset,” Lily admitted that night as Charlotte deposited a pile of chocolate on her bed. “But there’s just too much going on, we never see each other. What with OWLs coming up for me, and full-on study for him, as well as my prefect duties and everything else, it’s probably better all round if we don’t have this distraction. And getting to see each other was just becoming too difficult.”

Charlotte gave her a hug while Martha just looked thoughtful. “Any truth to the rumour he was sick to death of being hassled by James?”

Lily shook her head. “Of course not. We can’t have James Potter thinking he’s got that sort of power.”

“Not what I asked, Lils,” Martha said with a grin. “I didn’t ask whether you wanted James thinking he has that sort of power, I asked whether he actually does.”

Lily didn’t answer for a while, which suggested to me Martha had it spot on. Eventually she nodded. “Yes, it was a bit like that. Every time Lance turned around he was hexed again. It wore him down after a while.”

Martha nodded sympathetically. “I can imagine. Kind of like what I had when I was dating Sirius, but worse. It’d drive you batty.”

Lily nodded. “You can’t tell James, though. Ever. I don’t want him knowing it had anything to do with him at all.”

“We promise,” said Martha. “Don’t we, girls?” And she looked around at Charlotte, and then at Mary and me, and we all nodded our agreement.

We found out about another relationship that had taken a dive only a couple of days later. Mary and I arrived early to Charms to see Dione Turpin sitting alone at her desk, her eyes wet and her face red and blotchy. Gertie Cresswell was hovering around offering her sweets and the like, but she paid no attention. After one such effort I called Gertie over.

“What’s wrong with Dione?” I asked.

“I’d have thought you’d know,” Gertie said quietly. “Sirius dumped her this morning.”

“Oh.” Was that all? Sometimes it seemed like half the girls in our year had been dumped by him at some point. “But why would we know?”

Gertie gave us a very disdainful look. “You’re in Gryffindor, aren’t you?” And without another word she went back to trying to put a cushion on Dione’s chair.

“ _Muffliato_ ,” said Mary, pointing her wand at Dione and Gertie. This was a useful little spell Lily had taught us, which put white noise in the ears of the people it was directed at so they couldn’t hear what you were saying. “Well. An’ t’ think we thought it was true love?” She didn’t even try to hide her smirk.

I nodded. “Couldn’t have happened to a nicer girl, I must admit. Though she’s more cut up than I would have thought. How long were they together, two months or something?”

“I suppose it depends on hoo keen on him she was t’ start wi’ an’ all,” said Mary, though she was still smirking. “Bu’ I will say tha’ she’s no’ set herself up fer much in the way o’ sympathy, the way she treats everyone else.”

Sirius, when he eventually got to class (with James, late, and giving Flitwick his most winning smile to try to avoid a detention), didn’t look remotely cut up about the end of the relationship. In fact, you’d have been hard pressed to know he’d been in one to start with. He didn’t even pay Dione the compliment of ignoring her, as people usually do at the end of such liaisons, but rather just treated her the same as everyone else, like she wasn’t anything special.

Despite all this, my sympathy for her was extremely limited. After all, as I’d said to Mary, it couldn’t have happened to a nicer girl.

****

Although Lily said she was okay about her relationship with Lance ending, she definitely harboured some resentment towards James Potter for his role in its demise. So one day when James and Sirius started pushing people out of their way as they went down the corridors, the unlucky victims ending up, for example, mooing like a cow or suffering the effects of a Jelly-Legs or Trip Jinx, Lily decided to take action. She clearly agreed with Mary and me in that it was a bit much to hex people just for being in their way, and after a third-year Hufflepuff ended up covered in warts for daring to step in James’ path outside the Transfiguration classroom, she stepped in.

“That’s enough, Potter,” she warned, her wand out threateningly.

James looked surprised, and the next time he spoke his voice was deeper, more mature than usual – something we had noticed happened whenever he was addressing Lily. “What’s enough, Evans?”

“Act your age, not your shoe size,” Lily spat. “He was just crossing the hall to pick up his bag. You didn’t have to jinx him. Do that one more time and I’ll –”

“You’ll what?” asked James, still in the deeper voice, running his hand through his hair and smiling at her.

Lily smiled back, and James looked like all his Christmases had come at once. That is, until he found himself hoisted up into the air, upside down, as though suspended by his ankle. He flapped around madly trying to make sure his robes didn’t fall down too far, though we saw enough to make some passing fourth-years wolf-whistle appreciatively.

Lily had obviously cast a non-verbal spell, and she was watching his discomfort with increasing amusement. Eventually she flicked her wand and he crumpled to the floor.

“What did you do that for?” James asked as he got up and brushed himself off, his ‘Lily’ voice gone in his humiliation.

“Well, Potter,” she said, her voice sickly sweet, “it was either that or taking points from you, and to be honest I’d rather Gryffindor didn’t lose any more points. Thanks to you we’re almost in the negative as it is.”

Sirius, Remus and Peter were laughing, their friendship plainly taking a back seat to James’ exhibition. “Sorry, Prongs, I think she’s got you there,” said Sirius. “And to think I said she wasn’t a good choice! I take it all back.” There was that nickname again. I glanced at Mary, eyebrows raised, curious about where it came from.

“Yeah, anyone who can get away with that has to be a good catch,” said Peter. James glared at them as he gathered up his books.

Martha and Charlotte looked at Lily approvingly. “Where’d you learn that one, Lils?” asked Martha, obviously trying to remain out of James’ hearing.

Lily just smiled and shook her head. “I’ll tell you tonight.”

McGonagall interrupted the conversation by opening the door to let us into class, which that day was somewhat more entertaining than usual. The subject matter wasn’t too much of an issue – we were trying to turn an owl into a pair of opera glasses, which required a bit of concentration but no more than usual – but some of our classmates seemed to think a diversion was just what everyone was looking for.

What happened was halfway through the double lesson James and Sirius, who had already successfully transformed their owls into opera glasses and back again several times, started Transfiguring other items in the classroom as something to do. Very likely, as well as being bored, James was trying to win back some respect from his fellow students after the hoisting-upside-down thing Lily had done to him earlier, which had without doubt embarrassed him more than he wanted to admit.

Whatever the reason, people were used to distractions during Transfiguration, and no one paid much attention when the bookcase at the back of the room suddenly became a mahogany Edwardian dining suite, complete with elaborate place settings for twelve people. However, when Peter was turned into a rat before our eyes and several people’s school bags became billy goats which proceeded to ransack the room, Professor McGonagall stepped in.

“Potter, Black, that is enough,” she said tersely, her lips as thin as I had ever seen them. “You will return Mr Pettigrew to his original form immediately.” Even though she was plainly annoyed, I could tell there was some latent admiration in there somewhere as we weren’t due to start human Transfiguration until at least the following year.

Peter was at once returned to his human form, though part of me thought he almost looked better as a rat. However, the billy goats were proving harder to catch.

This wasn’t helped by the fact Peter and Remus seemed keen to join in the mayhem. While the billy goats remained they treated us to a rare display of colour change, going from red to green to polka dot to stripy, and some of them emitted different coloured sparks or bubbles from their horns as they set about destroying the classroom. Finally they were all hit with the correct Switching Spell, mostly from McGonagall, and the bags returned to their original owners in mostly the same condition they’d been in when it started.

“Right,” said Professor McGonagall with increasing frustration as she turned her glare to the perpetrators, “ten points will be taken from Gryffindor. Each. And the four of you will serve detentions with me tomorrow night.”

“Even me?” asked Sirius with mock indignation. “But I’m an object of wonder and veneration!” He sat forward in his chair so all four legs were on the ground – unusual for him when he wasn’t actually writing something – and gave her his most winning smile, as though the joke from Astronomy class would be able to transfer to Transfiguration.

“You are many things, Black,” McGonagall said icily, “but I would not have said that was one of them. Now if you have finished trying to get out of your detention, I will see you in my office tomorrow evening at eight.” And my admiration for Professor McGonagall increased dramatically.

****

Lily was as good as her word. That night in the dorm, when we were all ready for bed, she turned to Martha and grinned.

“Right, that spell,” she said, her eyes sparkling.

“That was a good one,” said Charlotte.

“Well, Sev taught it to me,” Lily said, disregarding the look of disappointment that must have crossed all our faces. That was a Snape spell? And we’d thought it was funny! “Yes, Sev,” she went on, not able to ignore us any longer. “He invented it. It’s a non-verbal, and the counter-jinx is also non-verbal, so no one knows what you’re casting.” She grinned from ear to ear.

“What’s the spell, then?” asked Martha.

“ _Levicorpus_ ,” said Lily. “And you just flick your wand a bit. Like this – Charlotte, do you mind?”

Charlotte shook her head, so Lily flicked her wand and immediately Charlotte too was dangling from her ankle, upside down. In another second she was back on the bed, laughing.

“The counter-spell is _Liberacorpus_ ,” Lily went on. “So you just think _Levicorpus_ to get them up there, and _Liberacorpus_ to get them down again.”

“ _Levicorpus_ , _Liberacorpus_ ,” Charlotte chanted, getting the words right in her head.

“Did you want to try it?” asked Lily, looking at Mary and me who were watching the proceedings with great interest. Nodding, glad to be included, we joined in enthusiastically with Martha and Charlotte who were practicing the spell on each other.

“You’ve got to admit,” Martha said after a while, after she had been once again hoisted into the air and released, “Snape has come up with a good one for once.” Lily beamed at her, pleased her friend was getting some of the recognition she doubtlessly felt he deserved.

Lily gave us all permission to teach the spell to one other person, provided we didn’t say who had invented it, and the person wasn’t James or one of his friends. Naturally, within a fortnight it seemed the whole school knew it. True to Lily’s request no one knew where it had come from, but for the rest of the school year it was a job to go anywhere without being hoisted up into the air by your ankle. People started wearing shorts or trousers underneath their robes as a precautionary measure – James and Sirius suddenly finding some rather stylish black trousers for that very reason – and the girls all wore belts to ensure nothing above the waist would end up on display. I noticed Severus Snape looking daggers at anyone who cast it, but once it was out there was nothing he or anyone else could do to stop it spreading. As Martha had said, it was a great spell.

****

In the havoc that followed life went on for the rest of the student body. Possibly as retaliation for being unceremoniously hoisted up by the ankle there was a bit of blood-based hexing going on, and my temper flared just before a Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson when Alecto Carrow decided it was my turn to receive the special treatment. Alecto was a short but burly Slytherin girl in our year who made it no secret she aspired to join the Death Eaters. Clearly I was fair game as I waited alone outside Professor Dingle’s classroom while everyone else was still at lunch – I had left early to go back to the dorm and pick up my homework, which I had left behind.

Anyway, Carrow walked up until she was standing over me (or would have been, if she was tall enough) and pushing me back against the wall. I grimaced – she obviously hadn’t brushed her teeth in a while.

“Cauldwell,” she spat. “Another filthy half-blood.”

“Carrow,” I retorted, refusing to be intimidated. “Another filthy Slytherin.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she growled, her wand aggressively targeting my chin.

“Just what I said. You’re a Slytherin, and you’re filthy.” I knew her use of the word ‘filthy’ referred to my Muggle blood so throwing it back at her was bound to get her a bit irate, but the approaching students on their way up from lunch gave me courage: she would be less dangerous if there were witnesses. I pulled out my wand, determined to give as good as I got. Suddenly her face changed slightly and I knew she was about to hex me, so I decided to go for her at the same time.

Unfortunately for Alecto, my reaction time was quicker than hers, and by the time she tried to speak she already had over a dozen bat-sized bogeys flapping about her face. Unfortunately for me, Professor Dingle opened his door at that precise moment and saw the aftermath of the encounter, but nothing that preceded it. The upshot was I lost a few points for Gryffindor and received a detention for that evening, with Professor Dingle in his office from eight o’clock.

Detention was a fairly simple affair – I had to clean out the Grindylow tank and clip a few Red Caps’ toenails in preparation for a fourth-year lesson the following day. However, it took me over two hours as neither the Grindylows nor the Red Caps were feeling particularly co-operative.

As a result it was past ten o’clock when I headed back to Gryffindor Tower. On the fourth floor I met Remus, who was doing his prefect duty patrolling the corridors and fell into step with me.

“What are you doing out so late?” he asked.

“Detention with Dingle. Remember, I did the Bat-Bogey Hex on Alecto Carrow? Not that she didn’t deserve it.” I realised too late I was probably talking too much. I often did that when I was nervous.

He laughed. “Oh yeah. Improved her appearance, really. You couldn’t see her face.” He had a point there – Alecto did look better with bats flapping out of her nose and around her cheeks. I almost felt proud of myself, though I wasn’t about to say that out loud.

“I thought prefects were supposed to be impartial?” I asked instead, raising my eyebrows.

“Sometimes that’s easier said than done,” he said, smiling. “Look, are you alone?” I nodded. “I’d better walk you back to the tower,” he said. “Dumbledore doesn’t like people wandering around by themselves after dark.”

I was about to respond but my train of thought was interrupted by Peeves the poltergeist, who had spotted us and started swishing around overhead singing at the top of his lungs. “Loony loopy Lupin,” he bellowed in what was probably supposed to be a singsong voice, “loony loopy Lupin.” I was surprised – Peeves didn’t normally target students by name like that – but before I could say anything Remus pulled out his wand and cast a Silencing Charm. Struck dumb, the poltergeist retaliated by hurling the helmet from a nearby suit of armour at us, which we dodged easily. Before long he got bored of our lack of reaction to him and sped off in the direction of the North Tower.

For some reason neither of us spoke a word about the incident with Peeves and the silence grew a bit. “How are you enjoying being a prefect?” I asked to break it up as we took a short-cut towards Gryffindor Tower. “I haven’t noticed any reduction in the number of James and Sirius’ detentions.”

“No, I’ve failed miserably, haven’t I?” he said cheerfully.

“Yeah, well, Lily hasn’t changed much either, she’s still just as innovative with the badge as she was without it.”

“I know,” he said. “As prefects, Lily and I spend a bit of time together. As Pron- James keeps reminding me.”

“He still hasn’t given up on her? After what she did to him the other week? Goodness, he has got it bad.”

“That’s James for you,” he said fondly. “Never does things by halves.”

“If it’s any consolation,” I said, “she does fancy him, just not when he’s acting like a berk. Which is most of the time,” I conceded as an afterthought. “Especially at the moment, with the whole Quidditch Cup thing and everything.”

Remus nodded, a smile on his face. “He can be a bit insufferable occasionally. Especially when he scored the most goals in that last game to win the Cup.”

I shook my head in frustration. “That’s the trouble, he really is that good.” It was true – James was probably the best thing that had happened to the Gryffindor Quidditch team in the whole time we’d been at school, and he’d proven it by scoring two hundred and sixty points on his own in the last game of the season, singlehandedly beating Ravenclaw even without Gryffindor catching the Snitch. “It’s just the shoving it down people’s throats that gets to us.”

Remus changed the subject. “Does she really fancy him though?”

“Yep. Don’t let the fact she barely speaks to him fool you. But don’t tell her I said that,” I added quickly, horrified at myself for actually saying these things out loud, let alone to a good friend of James Potter’s. “She’d kill me, that’s like breaking a trust.” What was it about Remus that inspired people to share secrets with him? “And I’m not sure she’s admitted it to herself, either,” I added.

He looked at me seriously. “Of course I won’t say anything,” he said, and he looked solemn enough for me to believe him. “But can you get her to be a bit nicer to him? Do you think you could ask her? He’s driving us insane and she won’t listen to me, I’m his friend.”

“I can try,” I said doubtfully, “but I don’t know it’ll do any good. We’ve never talked all that much, frankly. I mean, we talk, we’re in the same dorm and everything, but, you know, people group off. And we’re not in their league.”

“Not in their league?” repeated Remus. “What are you talking about?”

“It’s like any school,” I explained, warming to an old theme. “My Muggle primary school was the same. You’ve got the cool kids and then you’ve got the others. Well, Lily, Martha and Charlotte are the cool kids, and Mary and I are the others.”

“I think you’re being a bit hard on yourself,” he said. “You’re just as good as they are.”

“Remus, Remus,” I said, exasperated, “stop trying to always be the nice one. You know it’s true, it’s just the way it is. Think about it. If there was another boy in your dorm, Peter would probably have grouped off with him rather than with you lot, and we’d have the same situation there.” I will admit I didn’t like comparing myself to Peter very much, but it was the easiest way I could think of to make the point.

He was quiet for a moment, obviously considering what I’d said. “I guess you’re right,” he said eventually. “Though I still think you’re being hard on yourself. I’ll say it again – you’re just as good as they are.”

“Thanks. But you don’t need to try to make me feel better. It doesn’t bother me. I’m used to it anyway, I don’t think a Cauldwell has ever been one of the cool kids.”

“Wha–” he started, then cut himself off. “Of course. It can’t be easy having a sister like that.”

“It’s not,” I said, surprising myself. I didn’t usually talk openly about Bea to people I barely knew. Remus’ ability to encourage trust was frankly a little disarming. “Especially when we’re so different. But she is my sister, and I am fond of her, and I know she’s fond of me in her own way. You just have to recognise you’ll never have a normal type of relationship with her.” I paused, determined to stop myself saying too much. “But on the bright side, my diplomatic skills are second to none!”

He laughed with me, lightening the mood. “So,” he said, changing the subject, “how are you going with that Transfiguration assignment?”

I looked at him gratefully; maybe he had realised I wasn’t all that comfortable talking about Bea. “Truthfully? Not very well. I’m struggling a bit this year with Transfiguration. It’s like I can get the details of what she’s trying to tell us, but the basic concepts are eluding me completely. Once I get my head around those I’ll probably be fine, but in the meantime …”

“I’d offer to help,” he said, “but it’s not my best subject either. Now Prongs and – sorry, James and Sirius, they’re the Transfiguration experts. You want to ask them for a hand.”

I laughed. “Remus, what was I saying earlier? About the cool kids? James and Sirius are beyond cool. I’m not going to ask them for help! Besides, I wouldn’t have the guts, I hardly know them.”

He frowned slightly. “I think we need to get you past this cool-uncool thing. Right. Try Peter, he’s got a bit of a talent for it too. Not as much as James and Sirius, but …”

“Thanks,” I said, surprised – Peter had never to my knowledge shown much aptitude for any of our classes. “I might just do that. Merlin only knows I need the help! Oh – shrivelfig.”

We had reached the Fat Lady and I smiled at Remus as I gave the password. “Thanks for walking me back,” I said as I turned to the portrait hole.

He looked at his watch. “My shift is nearly over anyway, I might as well come back in.” The common room was bustling with activity. We looked awkwardly at each other and headed to our friends, me wondering just when Remus Lupin had become so easy to talk to.

****

The weather was warming up as spring prepared to make way for summer, and our OWLs were approaching at a record pace. Every lesson began with a lecture on revision and the importance of achieving a good score, and our homework was piling up at an alarming rate. In addition, the penalties for not completing homework were becoming harsher, as teachers tried to ensure we had done the necessary coursework to attempt the exams.

It was in this atmosphere that Mary one Thursday forgot to pack her Charms homework, and rushed upstairs to Gryffindor Tower in her morning break to collect it. She came back later than expected, a couple of minutes into the class, and had a strange look in her eyes as she made her apologies to Professor Flitwick.

Charms was always a good time to have conversations, as there was so much going on Professor Flitwick rarely noticed if you were talking more than usual. And so, while we were practising our Substantive Charms, I asked her what was wrong.

“Nothing’s wrong,” she said vaguely, practising the wand movement necessary to get the spell right. “I jus’ have t’ do summit a’ lunch time, okay?”

“Do what?”

“Oh, nothin’,” she said, still with that glazed look.

I was getting more than a little suspicious. “Mary, what are you on about?”

“It’s the firs’-years,” she explained. “They need t’ see the forbidden fores’. There’s some Acromantulas in there they need t’ meet.”

I dropped my wand, horrified, and some butterflies came out the end of it. “What???”

“I need t’ take them,” she said, as if it was obvious. “T’ see the Acromantulas an’ all. I have t’ do it a’ lunch time.”

“Right.” This was bizarre, and I was starting to wonder if Mary was quite with it. She hadn’t had any dodgy potions or anything that I knew about, so I wasn’t quite sure what could be wrong with her. Then something hit me like a ton of bricks, and I leaned over to the next table and asked Lily for help.

“Look at Mary,” I whispered. “Look at her eyes. Do you think she’s all right?”

Lily took a long hard look at Mary, then gasped and grabbed Charlotte. “Quick, Charlotte, what do you know about the Imperius Curse?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to credit Wikipedia for its wording around the star Sirius. The "object of wonder and veneration" was on the page when I first posted this fic, back in the day; the "causes plants to wilt, men to weaken and women to become aroused" I found on there just last week as I was doing final edits. Both were too good not to use so I thank that site for the information.


	9. The Imperius Curse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What Mulciber did to Mary – and proof that James Potter is not someone you want as your enemy.

Lily put up her hand. “Professor Flitwick,” she said loudly, “I think Mary needs to go to the hospital wing.”

Flitwick bustled over, narrowly avoiding a collision with Peter Pettigrew, who had been hit by a Substantive Charm and was suffering the effects. “What’s wrong, what’s wrong?”

I took Mary by the arm and explained to the Professor what she’d been saying and what our theory was. Mary obligingly backed me up, spouting the same nonsense she’d said before about needing to introduce the first-years to the giant, man-eating spiders that were rumoured to live in the forest. Professor Flitwick looked from her to me, stunned.

“Yes, of course, Miss Cauldwell, you must take her to the hospital wing,” he said, rubbing his hands as though trying to clean them. “Perhaps someone else should accompany you as well, just for security … Mr Potter!” he called out, getting James’ attention. I let out half a giggle despite the gravity of the situation – Flitwick was so short James initially seemed to have trouble locating where the summons was coming from.

“Mr Potter, will you kindly accompany these young ladies to the hospital wing?” asked Flitwick, phrasing it as a question but intoning it like an order. I couldn’t help but think he’d made a good choice. James was tall, reasonably broad (and so a little imposing), and one of the best in our year at Defence Against the Dark Arts, and so was most probably the student I would feel safest with under the circumstances. (Gerry Stebbins, who had been watching the proceedings with interest, looked rather disappointed he hadn’t been chosen instead but really, who would choose him over James Potter? For anything?)

James looked baffled at Flitwick’s request but nodded his agreement. As we left the classroom he looked at me and then at Mary, casting a shrewd look over her that reminded me forcefully of the one Lily had worn only moments earlier. “What’s wrong with Macdonald?”

“Suspected Imperius Curse,” I whispered, my hand still on Mary’s arm to stop her getting away.

“You’re not serious,” he said, looking aghast. “Hey, Macdonald,” he said, more loudly this time. Mary looked at him blankly. “Do you feel a need to do anything particular today?”

“Aye, aye,” said Mary. “I need t’ ge’ the firs’-years a’ lunch time an’ all. It’s really importan’.”

“What do you need to do with the first-years?” James’ hazel eyes narrowed behind his glasses.

“There’re some Acromantulas in the fores’,” said Mary, as though it was self-explanatory. “They need t’ mee’ the Acromantulas. It’s really importan’.”

James got a very ugly expression on his face, as though he was in the presence of something he found particularly abhorrent, and he grabbed Mary’s other arm. “We’ll take you to get the first-years,” he said as though placating a child, “we just need to get you looked at first.”

“I don’ need t’ be looked a’,” said Mary, getting slightly hysterical. “I need t’ get the firs’-years, we need t’ go t’ the fores’!”

“But you’ve got a horrible growth on your face,” he said, still in that placating tone, casting me a quick warning look over her head to ensure I didn’t contradict him. “You’ll scare them all off if they see you like this. We’ll take you to Madam Pomfrey, and she’ll take the growth off your face so you don’t scare them.”

Mary hesitated, then nodded. James was still steering her quickly through the castle, taking a longer than usual route, which I belatedly realised was so we wouldn’t go past any mirrors. Fortunately our way wasn’t impeded at all: other students and even a couple of the ghosts took one look at James’ face and steered well clear of us. Finally we made it to the hospital wing.

I was surprised to see the Headmaster waiting for us, along with an agitated Madam Pomfrey. Professor Dumbledore acted swiftly when we arrived, pushing us all into the Matron’s office and directing us to the chairs inside.

“Miss Macdonald,” he said gravely, “I understand you have a task to perform?”

Mary nodded. “Aye, Professor, I have t’ take the firs’-years oot int’ the fores’ a’ lunch time.”

“And what will you do once you get there?” he asked, his tone even.

“They need t’ mee’ the Acromantulas, Professor,” she said obediently. “It’s verra importan’ tha’ they mee’ the Acromantulas.”

“I see,” said Dumbledore. He then turned to me. “Miss Cauldwell, I understand you noticed this first. When did it start?”

“We’ve just left Charms,” I said, unused to being addressed by the Headmaster. In fact I was mildly unnerved that he even knew who I was. It wasn’t like our paths had crossed much in the five years I’d been at Hogwarts. “She was late getting there, she had to run back up to the tower to get her homework.”

“And before then?” he asked. “How was she before that time?”

“We had double Transfiguration,” I said, trying to recall the morning’s lesson. “She seemed fine then.”

“Very well,” said Professor Dumbledore. “I will check with Professor McGonagall, but it appears the time in between classes is what we will be interested in. Kindly fetch her for me, Poppy,” he said, directing this at Madam Pomfrey, who obediently left the room.

“And James, what is your involvement in this matter?” he asked when she had left.

“None at all, sir,” said James; he appeared comfortable with the Headmaster, and I supposed with his litany of detentions they were bound to have made each other’s acquaintance at one point or other, clearly to the extent that Dumbledore used his first name. “Professor Flitwick asked me to escort the girls here, to make sure nothing else happened to Macdonald.”

“Ah yes,” said Dumbledore, “a wise move, I think, under the circumstances.”

Mary was looking agitated again. “Please, sir,” she said, “if tha’s all, I need t’ ge’ the firs’-years, it’s almos’ lunch time an’ all.”

Dumbledore looked at her, and his face was a mixture of pity and fear. “I think not, Miss Macdonald,” he said sadly, waving his wand at her. Suddenly ropes appeared from the chair she was sitting on, and within seconds she was bound to her chair, unable to move and mute as a gag appeared in her mouth. “My deepest apologies,” said the Headmaster, looking at her gravely, “but we cannot allow you to do so.”

Mary started writhing in her chair, and James and I looked at each other in horror. This was awful - why couldn’t someone take the curse off her?

Professor Dumbledore seemed to have read my mind. “The Imperius Curse, Miss Cauldwell, is a difficult one to undo,” he said. “We can, of course, wait until it wears off, which is an indeterminate amount of time depending on the strength of the caster. However, as we do not know who cast the curse, that could take quite a while. Very accomplished dark wizards have been known to cast Imperius Curses that have lasted for years.” He paused, watching Mary as she struggled in vain against her restraints. “It is best, therefore, to try to undo the Curse. Fortunately I have the knowledge necessary to perform this task, although I warn you it may cause Miss Macdonald some physical pain.”

I nodded mutely, aware that any physical pain Mary suffered in the short term was preferable to what she may have had to endure in the long term if the curse held.

Madam Pomfrey returned at this time, with Professor McGonagall in tow. Dumbledore looked up at them and smiled.

“Ah, Minerva, please take a seat,” he said, conjuring up a very comfortable looking plush armchair for her to sit on as we had taken all the existing seating.

McGonagall looked at the three of us students in turn, her eyes resting for the longest time on Mary, who was still bound and gagged in her chair. “Might I ask, Albus, why you have restrained one of my students?” she asked, her lips so thin they were almost invisible.

“We suspect Miss Macdonald is a victim of the Imperius Curse,” Dumbledore said.

Professor McGonagall’s demeanour changed at once. “Macdonald? The Imperius Curse? Impossible! Who could have done such a thing? She hasn’t left the school grounds!”

“That,” said the Headmaster, “is exactly what I intend to find out. Minerva, can you advise if Miss Macdonald was her usual self during Transfiguration this morning?”

McGonagall thought about it. “I believe so,” she said eventually, “but I couldn’t swear to it.”

“Miss Cauldwell also believes she was fine at that time,” said Dumbledore. “And apparently Miss Macdonald made a speedy trip up to Gryffindor Tower at the conclusion of that class to fetch her Charms homework, and was not the same when she returned. And now,” he went on, “to find out what happened.”

He turned to Mary and performed what looked like an incredibly complicated bit of wandwork, after which she writhed and screamed with pain and fear. However, when she stopped, she looked calm, and the glazed look had left her eyes. She did not, however, appear to be completely herself yet as she relaxed in her chair and did not seem to wonder why she was tied up.

Dumbledore turned to look at us again. “She is no longer Imperiused, but I have cast a charm to help her remember what happened. If I completely remove the curse at this point, she will fall into shock and will not be able to tell us who is responsible. I must ask for your patience for just a little longer.” Madam Pomfrey sniffed: it was obvious she just wanted to have Mary in bed and taking a course of potions, but she couldn’t overrule the Headmaster. Dumbledore swished his wand again and the ropes and gag fell away from Mary, leaving her unrestrained, but she didn’t move. She must still be under the charm, as he had said.

“Miss Macdonald,” said Dumbledore in a clear voice. “Miss Macdonald, can you hear me?”

“Aye, Professor,” said Mary, sounding somewhat distant.

“Miss Macdonald, I would ask you to kindly cast your mind back to this morning, when you were studying Transfiguration. Do you remember this morning?”

“Aye, Professor,” said Mary, still distantly.

“Remember the end of the class?” said the Headmaster, prompting her. “What did you do at the end of the class?”

“I handed in my homework t’ Professor McGonagall. I lef’ the class. I had t’ ge’ my Charms homework.”

“And where was your Charms homework?”

“In my dorm, sir,” replied Mary, sounding like she was reciting the answer. “I lef’ it there accidentally, an’ I didn’ wan’ t’ go t’ class wi’oot it.”

“So you were going to Gryffindor Tower,” Dumbledore prompted. “What happened then?”

“I go’ t’ the tower, an’ go’ my homework an’ all. There was no one in the common room, they must have all bin a’ classes still.”

“And on the way back to your Charms class?”

“I met Mulciber on the way. He wanted t’ talk t’ me.”

“This is Mr Irving Mulciber, from Slytherin House?” asked Dumbledore, obviously making sure there would be no mistake in identifying the person responsible.

“Aye, sir,” said Mary obediently.

“What did you say to him?” asked Dumbledore.

“I didn’ want t’ talk t’ him. I don’ lik’ him verra much,” said Mary, sounding for all the world like a six year old talking about a playground fight. “Bu’ he insisted.”

“And what did he say?”

“He said I needed t’ mee’ some firs’-years,” Mary recited. “He ha’ his wand oot. He did a spell. I was scared, an’ then suddenly I was peaceful.”

“What did he say about the first-years?” asked Dumbledore, his face very grave.

“He tol’ me there are Acromantulas in the forbidden fores’. The firs’-years need t’ study the Acromantulas. I was t’ tak’ them int’ the fores’.”

“Was he particular about which first-years?” asked Dumbledore.

“The Hufflepuff firs’-years,” said Mary. “An’ the Ravenclaws. Particularly the Muggle-borns an’ the half-bloods an’ all. Those were the ones he mentioned.”

Dumbledore looked at me sharply. “Is this what she was saying?”

“Yes, sir,” I said. James, next to me, nodded his agreement.

“It looks like we have our culprit,” muttered the Headmaster. “Minerva, can you kindly summon Mr Mulciber to my office, please? And Horace,” he added, “it’s best to have the Head of House present on such occasions.” Professor Slughorn, who had to be the Horace he referred to, was Head of Slytherin House.

“Certainly, Albus,” said McGonagall, and she stood up and left the room.

“Excellent,” said Dumbledore. And he got his wand out again and tapped Mary on the head three times. She looked like she had just woken up and looked around at us, obviously confused as to where she was and what had happened.

“Miss Macdonald,” said Dumbledore, “you have been cursed by a fellow student. There shouldn’t be any lasting effects, but we will need to keep you in the hospital wing to make sure. You will remain here until Madam Pomfrey allows you to leave.”

Madam Pomfrey took this as permission for her to get on with what she did best. “All right, young lady, bed,” she said. “You’ll be in shock, you must stay until the course of potions is complete.”

Mary followed her vaguely into the main hospital area, where Madam Pomfrey had already prepared a bed for her. We got up to follow her, this clearly being our cue to leave.

“Oh, and James?” came Dumbledore’s voice. We both paused.

“Yes, sir?”

“I appreciate the gravity of what Mr Mulciber appears to have done, so please be reassured I will deal with it appropriately. I do not want to hear you have taken matters into your own hands,” said Dumbledore, and I suspected he was referring to the incident earlier in the year with Charon Avery.

“Of course not, Professor,” said James, though it appeared even to me that he was trying to think of a way around this promise. Put another way, I wouldn’t have been at all surprised to learn his fingers were crossed inside his robes.

“Thank you. And now, if you will excuse me, I have an appointment in my office for which I must not be late.” And the Headmaster swept out of Madam Pomfrey’s office and out of sight.

James and I also left the Matron’s office and entered the hospital wing treatment room. Madam Pomfrey was bustling around Mary’s bed, measuring out some potions into a goblet, which was steaming ominously.

“Can I stay with her for a bit?” I asked, hesitating a little as I knew the Matron’s possessiveness when it came to her patients.

“Certainly not,” she said, looking horrified. “This girl needs rest. Out! OUT!”

James looked at me and shrugged. Then, casting a furtive look towards a bed towards the end of the room which was surrounded by privacy screens, he led me out.

“You’ll be able to go back and see her tomorrow,” he said as we made our way downstairs to the Great Hall – lunch would have started by now.

“What do you think will happen to Mulciber?” I asked in a small voice. I was still in shock over what had happened – maybe I should have been in the hospital wing too, taking the same course of potions as Mary was.

James hesitated. “At the start of the year, I’d have said he’d be expelled. But after what happened with Avery, I don’t know. He might be able to stay. But if he does, you can be sure he’ll be shadowed by the teachers for the rest of the school year and probably into next year, too. It depends on what he says to Dumbledore, I guess.”

I didn’t feel particularly reassured by that, but at least he was being straight with me.

“I hope he’s kicked out,” I said, with a sudden vehemence I hadn’t realised I felt. “No one should be able to get away with what he did. And what he tried to do. Can you imagine how Mary would have felt if she’d actually followed through with that?”

James nodded, that ugly look back on his face. “They need to do something about it,” he said. “There are too many students practicing Dark Magic at this school, it has to be stopped. I bet they’re all Death Eater wannabes, too.” The hatred on his face was palpable, and it suddenly hit me just how dangerous an enemy James Potter would be. I had never seen him this angry before and it frightened me. If he was moved to anger to this extent, Merlin only knew what he would do if given free rein with his wand. No wonder even the ghosts had avoided us.

He must have realised I was slightly spooked by his behaviour because the anger dissipated just as quickly as it had come, and he gave me a pleasant smile. “Sorry about that, Cauldwell,” he said, much more gently. “It just gets me so angry, that some people think they can use others as their house elves, just to try things out, or do get them to do their dirty work. It’s weak, it’s cowardly, and it’s improper use of magic.” He paused, looking down at me. “We’ve been given a gift and we need to think of it like that, not a right. We have no right to think we’re better than anyone else.”

I smiled back, a small smile but one I hoped indicated I accepted his apology. “Thanks, Potter. Let’s just hope that nothing like this happens again, shall we.”

He nodded in agreement, his hand still clutched around his wand as it had been since we left the hospital wing. “Looks like we made it intact,” he said, indicating the Great Hall in front of us. “Lunch isn’t over yet – want to grab a bite?”

****

By dinner that night the whole school seemed to know what had happened with Mary and Mulciber, which was fast even by Hogwarts standards. I made it quite clear I didn’t want to talk about it so most people started bothering James for information, which he only gave out in small snippets. I wasn’t sure if that was because he was protecting Mary’s privacy or because he had a flair for the dramatic and wanted to keep the suspense going for as long as possible, but I appreciated it all the same.

James, most probably sensing I was feeling a bit fragile, babysat me for the rest of the afternoon, making sure no one got too close and I was coping okay. I’d never seen this tender, concerned side of him before, and I wondered again just why Lily kept refusing him. However, his friends gave us a relatively wide berth, whether because they didn’t trust me or because James had warned them off, understanding somehow I wasn’t really up to their brand of humour, I couldn’t be certain.

I was sitting with him at supper that evening, watching vaguely as he fended off yet another student wanting more details of the juiciest story of the term, when my attention was caught by some activity at the Slytherin table by the far wall. Focusing my eyes I saw Severus Snape, the boy supposed to be Lily’s friend, walking around with his arms outstretched in front of him, as though sleepwalking or hypnotised. A group of fellow Slytherins, Charon Avery among them, were laughing loudly in appreciation: apparently someone being Imperiused was funny. I glanced sharply at Lily to see if she had noticed this, but her back was to the rest of the room and she was busy talking to Charlotte, so I decided not to enlighten her.

Sirius, on the other hand, _had_ noticed. I heard the sharp intake of breath to my right and, looking over to where he was sitting, saw his eyes narrow with disgust and revulsion and he was plainly fingering his wand. “The prat,” he muttered furiously. “Keeps trying to get us expelled for trivial stuff, and now look what he’s doing about this. Celebrating it!” If steam actually did come out of people’s ears when they were angry, he would have looked like a boiling kettle. Peter, sitting opposite him, looked more than a little intimidated, and I guessed an angry Sirius Black was probably just as frightening as an angry James Potter.

James had seen Sirius’ reaction to Snape’s little performance too, and gave him a warning look before glancing at me to see how much I had noticed.

“It’s okay,” I muttered, feeling guilty I was keeping him from his friends. “I can handle it.”

James looked at me doubtfully and piled some chocolate pudding onto my plate. “Eat up. You’ll feel better. Don’t worry, we won’t let anything like that happen to you, or to anyone else.”

I spooned some pudding into my mouth absently, then stopped in amazement after I swallowed and an unexpected feeling of warmth and security flooded through me. He was right. James Potter was right, I did feel better. I’d heard about the healing power of chocolate when we had studied Dementors earlier in the year, but hadn’t paid it much attention. Oh well, James was pretty much the best in our year at Defence Against the Dark Arts (it was a close call with Sirius), so I supposed if he didn’t know what he was doing, no one would.

“Thanks,” I said, truly grateful to him as I devoured the rest of the pudding. In the background I heard a cheer and noticed vaguely that yet another student had been _Levicorpus_ ed, the perpetrators clearly having had enough of the Mary/Mulciber story for now, and I hoped for Mary’s sake the rest of Hogwarts would get sick of it as soon as possible as well. Finishing my pudding, I saw that Lily, Martha and Charlotte had finished their meals as well, so I told James I’d go back up to the dorm with them. He was hesitant to let me go, but obviously decided in the end that in a group of four I would probably be safe enough, and I was sure he had faith in Lily’s ability to keep me calm.

I was feeling much more comfortable after dinner and so I did tell the girls everything that had happened, back in the dorm that night. No one really felt up for a long stay in the common room, even with the mounting pile of homework we’d been set, and we retired relatively early. Lily in particular was very good at coaxing the information from me, using just the right mixture of sympathy and prompting, and before long the whole story was out.

“It’s ridiculous,” said Charlotte. “He should have been kicked out for this.” Mulciber had received the same punishment as Avery had earlier in the year – detentions for the rest of the year and doomed to be tailed by a teacher wherever he went.

“I know,” Martha said. “Seriously, I know Dumbledore likes to trust people, but this is getting to be beyond a joke.”

“He warned James off doing anything himself,” I said suddenly – that detail had escaped me during the re-telling.

“Really?” asked Lily, her interest piqued.

“Yeah, it sounded like he was pretty much saying, ‘don’t do what you did to Avery’. Which is most probably a good thing – we don’t need Gryffindor losing any more points because James has blown his top again.”

“That’s one thing you have to admit about him, whatever else you might think,” said Charlotte, pulling out her pyjamas. “He really does hate the Dark Arts.”

“Yeah,” said Martha, “he might do weird things to people, but it’s never Dark Magic. It never actually hurts them.”

I knew this was all directed at Lily, and she gratified her friends by agreeing. “You’re right,” she said eventually. “He’s an arrogant toerag, yes, but he’d never do anything like this.”

“I’ve never seen him so angry,” I said. “Seriously, he scared me. Even the Bloody Baron got out of our way when we were taking Mary to Dumbledore, he looked that frightening. But when he calmed down he was really nice to me, he looked after me all day, making sure I was okay and felt protected.”

“I noticed that,” Lily said. “I thought it was so kind of him, doing that. After all, he hardly knows you.”

I smiled, and Martha and Charlotte winked at each other, as if this was one more step completed on their campaign to get Lily to admit she fancied James.

“It did look funny, though,” said Martha. “Not you and James,” she clarified hurriedly, looking at me. “Sirius and Peter. Because James was with you all afternoon, it was just them hanging out. Talk about the prince and the pauper!” She giggled, and thinking of how they would have looked I laughed too. The tall, dashing, aristocratic, handsome Sirius, paired with Peter, more than a head shorter, plump, pudgy, with his colourless hair, small watery eyes and long nose, his features all weak rather than strong. It would have been an interesting combination. There was, however, someone missing.

“Where was Remus?” I asked. I hadn’t noticed him not being there, but then again after what had happened to Mary I hadn’t noticed much at all.

“Ill,” said Charlotte. “Apparently he took a dodgy potion or something, he hasn’t been around all day.” Well, if anyone knew where Remus was, it would have been Charlotte. I suddenly realised who must have been behind the privacy screens in that bed in the hospital wing, the one James had looked at.


	10. Snape's theory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius sends Snape under the Whomping Willow, Mary comes out of the hospital wing, and OWLs begin.

The upshot of Mary being in the hospital wing was that Lily, Martha and Charlotte went out of their way to include me in their little group to prevent me from being alone. They sat with me at mealtimes, partnered me in class, sat with me in the common room after dinner and went with me to visit Mary on her sickbed. It highlighted to me just how nice they were and I found myself hoping it would continue even when Mary was allowed to leave the hospital.

Martha appreciated the extra company as well, it turned out. That Saturday night Professor Slughorn had arranged one of his little parties and Lily and Charlotte were going to attend, so Martha decided she was going to initiate me into the intricacies of a girls’ night in, in the dormitory. Our evening of doing each other’s hair, playing with makeup and robe styles, and trying on everyone’s clothes was cut short, however, when Lily came struggling in well before her Slug Club meeting was supposed to finish, Charlotte holding her upright. She looked like she was trying not to cry.

“Lils! What’s wrong?” gasped Martha, putting down her hair curling ointment.

“Snape’s what’s wrong,” Charlotte snarled, settling Lily down on her bed before adjusting her glasses, which had fallen down her nose. “He’s been upsetting her again.”

“Not again,” I said sympathetically, giving Martha back the dress robes she’d wanted me to try on. “What was it this time?”

“He was being so unfair,” said Lily. “Not like Sev at all, at least not the Sev I know.” We all rolled our eyes and waited for her to continue. When she didn’t for a while, Martha stepped in.

“So what did he say?”

“He was having a go at Remus,” Lily said, sniffing loudly. “Remus! Who could possibly not like him! He’s so nice!”

“Probably because he hangs out with James,” Charlotte said wisely. “Tainted by association, or so our Severus thinks.”

“Sev keeps saying awful things about them. About all of them. You should have seen the looks he was giving James and Sirius at Slughorn’s tonight,” said Lily, now starting to hiccough. “And he was making these awful accusations. ’Cause they keep on sneaking out of the tower, and he wants to get them in trouble, so he follows them.”

I couldn’t help myself. “Why are you still friends with him, Lily?”

“He was never like that!” she protested. “He was always so nice! I don’t know what’s got into him.” She paused. “Or maybe I do. _Why_ he is friends with Avery and Mulciber, I will never understand.”

My hand involuntarily clenched into a fist. After what Mulciber had done to Mary, after what he had tried to make her do, I would never understand it either. And he hadn’t even got a Howler for what he did – maybe his parents were Death Eaters or something and therefore approved.

“What happened, Lils?” asked Martha. “What did he say that got you so upset?”

“Well, you know how Remus was ill this week,” said Lily. Charlotte tensed ever so slightly, her face steeled to hear what she knew was coming. “Sev keeps saying he’s only ill when the full moon’s out. That he’s a – a – he’s a _werewolf_.”

What?? Where could he have got that idea from? And Martha looked gobsmacked, like she’d had the same reaction I had. “He doesn’t!” she gasped, horrified.

“And it’s not only that,” Lily went on, hiccoughing uncomfortably. “He says it’s not just a theory, he knows it’s true. But I don’t believe him,” she said, more firmly than she had spoken thus far.

“Why not?” I asked. Lily turning against Snape was a bit of a big deal.

“Slughorn,” Charlotte explained. “He was making a big deal of James tonight. Something about Snape going down that tunnel under the Whomping Willow, and James following him and saving him from whatever it is that’s down there.”

My eyebrows shot up. “Really? James went after Snape?”

“That was our reaction, too,” said Charlotte. “Seems completely out of character. But apparently that’s just what happened. So we think Snivellus is just ticked off James actually helped him and so he’s trying to make his life difficult. You know, just for a change.”

“There’s something to do with Sirius there, too,” Lily said suddenly, her green eyes still bright. “James was giving him really dirty looks the whole time Slughorn was praising him. Praising James, I mean, not Sirius. Like it was Sirius’ fault that Sev went down there in the first place.”

“Why didn’t you ask Snivellus about it, then?” asked Martha.

Lily glared at her for using Snape’s nickname before answering. “ _Severus_ hadn’t arrived yet,” she said, her hiccoughs now gone. “He was running late. Slughorn had moved on to raving about Damocles Belby by the time he got there, and it slipped my mind.” Belby was a seventh-year Ravenclaw who was apparently extremely good at Potions. “And then Sev starting going on about Remus, and I got upset. Because Remus is such a good person, and it’s not his fault he gets ill, so why should anyone have a go at him like that?”

Martha grinned. “Anyone would think it was Remus you fancied, not James, the way you’re going on,” she said. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed Charlotte make a sudden involuntary movement.

Lily picked up a slipper off the floor and hurled it at Martha. “For the last time, I do NOT FANCY JAMES BLOODY POTTER!” she bellowed, her cheeks scarlet.

“Sure you don’t, Lils, sure you don’t,” said Martha, still with that wicked smile on her face. “Though you might want to say that a bit louder, I think there are some people in Glasgow who didn’t quite hear you.”

“And I don’t fancy Remus, either,” snorted Lily, throwing the other slipper at Martha for good measure. “He’s my friend, but he’s not my type. Anyway, even if he was, a little bird told me someone else saw him first.” And she grinned at Charlotte, who made a point of cleaning her glasses at that moment and pretended not to know what she meant.

There was obviously something in the stories from Slughorn’s party, though. According to the rumours flying around the school the following day, Sirius had told Snape how to stop the Whomping Willow, well, whomping, and Snape had made the most of that information and taken off down the tunnel underneath the tree. Fortunately for Snivellus, James had indeed run after him and dragged him back, most probably kicking and screaming, before he got to whatever monster was down there. This information was so sensational it even knocked Mary and Mulciber off top spot of the most-talked-about list.

For whatever reason, James, Remus and Peter gave Sirius the cold shoulder after this event, avoiding him almost like he had Spattergroit or something, and talk was he had almost been expelled because of it. What was confirmed was he had received detentions for every Saturday and Sunday afternoon for the rest of the school year. Clearly this was a more serious situation than we had thought – after all, only about half the school even believed there was anything at all down that tunnel, dangerous or otherwise. After a few days, though, whatever unforgivable offence Sirius had committed appeared to have been forgiven after all, and the boys went back to what they were best at – wreaking havoc.

On Wednesday, almost a week after Mary had been Imperiused, Madam Pomfrey deemed her well enough to leave the hospital wing. I hadn’t realised she would be allowed to leave, and was therefore in the common room doing some revision with the other girls when she walked in after dinner that evening, having been escorted back to Gryffindor Tower by Professor McGonagall. On seeing her we all jumped to our feet and ran over to embrace her, but Mary being Mary wasn’t keen on being the centre of attention and she pushed us off rather quickly.

“Don’ you lasses have revision t’ do?” she asked with mock exasperation, wriggling uncomfortably out of four different bear hugs.

“How lovely to see you, girls! Thanks so much for coming to visit me so often while I was in hospital, and for saving me from killing off first-years,” I parodied.

Mary smiled. “Aye, okay, poin’ taken,” she said, walking back with us to our table by the window where we somehow found an empty chair to add to the mix. “I did apprecia’ it. An’ thanks fer tryin’ t’ keep Gerry Stebbins away from me, I don’ think I coul’ have coped wi’ him by my bedside all the time. Did ye know he still reads Martin Miggs comic books?” She rolled her eyes in disgust while the rest of us giggled at the thought of Gerry sitting there like a hopeful puppy – possibly bringing some mindlessly childish comic books for her to read – while Mary tried casting a Revulsion Jinx to get rid of him. “An’ thanks fer keepin’ me company an’ fer bringin’ me tha’ homework an’ revision, otherwise I think I woul’ have jumped oot the window from boredom.”

“Not to mention failed your OWLs,” said Lily.

“Tha’, too,” said Mary. “Which reminds me, they start week after nex’, right? What do we have firs’?”

“Charms first,” Charlotte said immediately. “Then Herbology, then Astronomy.”

Mary nodded. “Aye. An’ I’ve go’ Muggle Studies in there somewhere too, I think.”

“Right,” said Martha with a grin. “So do you want to get stuck straight back into your revision, or should we have a bit of a celebration first now you’re out of the hospital wing?”

Mary grinned at her. “I knew I liked ye, Martha. Defini’ly a celebration firs’, I think.”

“Good choice,” said Martha. “Now, I’ve got a few butterbeers stashed away upstairs, and I’m pretty sure Lily has some chocolate …”

Lily nodded. “And I was keeping it for just such an occasion. Well, girls, come on then.” And despite Charlotte’s protests that we were running out of time for revision, we abandoned our study and headed up to the dorm to commemorate Mary’s return.

****

Despite the flurry of study for the fifth-years, lessons were annoying us by continuing, though the teachers seemed to understand our frustration and asked only we do more revision as homework. It did mean however that we were required to at least pay lip service to our class schedules and during the last week before exams we could all be found shuffling from one classroom to another, with barely a distraction to be found. Even Peeves seemed imbued with the realisation that peace and quiet were needed, so we couldn’t even rely on him to pull us out of our OWLs-inspired frenzy.

The whole school seemed to be a jumble of nervous students frantically finishing assignments and trying to reconfigure the hours of the day so they could get enough revision in. Even some of the smarter Ravenclaws, like Greta Catchlove and Sebastian Quirke, could be found at all hours in the library or sitting in the Great Hall at mealtimes with thick textbooks propped open on the table in front of them. Of all the fifth-years only James and Sirius didn’t seem to be too worried and were conspicuous by their lack of study, but as they were probably the smartest kids in school I guessed they didn’t need to. For that one week, I hated them.

I was still having a mental block with Transfiguration, too. While I would never have asked James or Sirius for help – despite their being the best in the year by so far it wasn’t funny – I couldn’t help but remember Remus saying Peter had a penchant for it too. I’d not really noticed him excelling in it, but then again Peter was so easy to overlook, especially when in the company of the other Gryffindor boys, that I couldn’t be sure I wasn’t underestimating him.

The thing was, even though Peter wasn’t nearly as intimidating as James or Sirius, even James after the incident with Mary, I still hesitated to ask him for help with Transfiguration. Quite honestly, part of me just wasn’t convinced he was as good as Remus had implied. Or maybe I found his long nose, watery eyes and lank, colourless hair just a little repulsive, and I wasn’t keen to spend much time in close quarters with him. Everyone knew he’d take anything he could get in the relationship stakes, and I didn’t want him to misinterpret my intentions and think I fancied him. Or for him to fancy _me_ , either – as was the case with Sturgis, I would never be _that_ desperate. (Put another way, if I had to choose between snogging Peter and living a life of exile with no human contact whatsoever, then the life of exile would be looking pretty damn good.) In any case I opted instead to spend many hours in the library after supper, looking through old Transfiguration textbooks and immersing myself in the theory, in the hope it would suddenly click. OWLs were less than two weeks away and I was getting more than a little anxious.

As it turned out, none of the books were nearly as helpful as Charlotte was a couple of mornings later in the common room. “Why are you having so much trouble with it?” she asked, watching me swearing at one of the many books I had borrowed from the library.

“I just can’t seem to get my head around it,” I said. “I’m struggling with the theory. Once that clicks in my head, I should be fine.”

Charlotte shook her head. “Laura, Laura,” she said over the raucous laughter caused by what looked like a second-year hovering in the background, suspended upside down by their ankle, “I saw you turning Scylla Pritchard’s nose into a banana the other day.”

Oh yes, that’s right. Scylla, who was dating Irving Mulciber, had been making fun of Mary being Imperiused and I’d not reacted well. In truth I was a little ashamed of the incident – it wasn’t like I’d been acting in self-defence, for example – and would have preferred it if Charlotte hadn’t mentioned it at all.

Anyway, I chose to pretend everything was fine. “And?”

“What sort of magic do you think that is? Potions? Laura, that’s Transfiguration!”

I sat silently as my brain tried to digest this. I’d always thought of Bea’s spells as charms, but really Charlotte was right. At least half of the hexes Bea had taught me were Transfiguration spells – giving people flamingo necks, or turning their hair into earthworms, that was definitely Transfiguration. And I’d never had any trouble with those.

“Thanks, Charlotte,” I said with feeling. “I hadn’t thought of it like that.”

“No worries,” she said, grinning. “Any time I can help, just yell out.”

I went back to trying to conjure a table lamp, but thought of it as Bea would have taught me, not as McGonagall had. And what do you know? It worked. Charlotte was a genius, and I decided then and there to buy her a lifetime supply of jelly slugs next time I was in Honeydukes.

It wasn’t just me having problems with revision. There was a roaring black market trade going on in various devices designed to improve your memory, or at least that was what the people selling them were claiming. Mostly sixth-years, they were peddling an assortment of powders, potions, amulets and even a lucky rabbit’s foot or two, claiming these items were solely responsible for the number of OWLs they had achieved the previous year. Lily as a prefect was kept very busy trying to prevent the sale of these items, telling anyone who would listen that they didn’t do the job was attributed to them and the fifth-years’ time would be better spent actually studying rather than relying on anything external that most probably didn’t work anyway.

“Why people are even bothering with old potions is beyond me,” Martha grumbled one day as she pushed aside an eager sixth-year who was trying to sell a bottle of something that if nothing else smelled dodgy. “That one smelled like something had died in there and was slowly decomposing.”

Charlotte grinned. “Do you have a better idea?”

“Of course,” said Martha, flashing a wicked smile. “All we need is for someone to break into the Ministry and steal a few Time-Turners. We’ll all have plenty of time for revision then.”

“I almost wish we hadn’t stuffed up our Memory Potions when we were doing them,” I said. “Fun as that dragon liver fight was, it would most probably have been a better idea for us to actually learn to make something that improves memory capacity.”

“But Memory Potions are easy,” said Lily, her eyes flicking up from _The Standard Book of Spells Grade Four_ , which she was re-reading to try to jog her memory from the previous years’ work. “You just get some Jobberknoll feathers –”

“Yes, Lils,” Martha interrupted rather loudly. “We all know you’re brilliant at Potions. But not all of us can just do it in our sleep like you seem to be able to.”

“Yes, right, whatever,” Lily said, sounding a little put out. “I was only trying to help.”

“We know,” Mary said. “Bu’ Laura wasn’ bein’ serious aboot wantin’ a Memory Potion. She jus’ wants t’ mak’ sure she can remember everything she needs t’.”

“Oh, right.” Lily looked at her and I could see her gaze sharpen. “Sorry, I wasn’t really paying attention. Did you realise you don’t actually have to be completely specific when you cast a Summoning Charm? Apparently so long as you’ve got a vague idea of what you want, if it’s close enough it’ll come to you, even if you just say _Accio_ without specifying anything. I hadn’t realised that.”

Martha laughed. “Oh, Lily, you’re going to ace Charms anyway. Why are you even bothering to read up on all that stuff?”

“But it’s the sort of thing we need to know,” Lily protested. For someone who was so smart, she really was stressing about these exams. “Really, I don’t know I’ll ace it at all, there’s so much to remember and what if I’ve forgotten something over the past three years? It’s easier for you lot, you’ve got wizarding families and grew up with all this stuff. For me it’s all brand new.”

“I’m not all that fussed how I go this year,” I said honestly. “The only reason I’m doing OWLs is to get into my NEWT subjects, so as long as I’ve got what I need to go on with something I’m not worried. Which means I’m not trying to get an O in anything, just Es in the ones I want continue. And even then it doesn’t matter if it’s a low E, so long as it’s an E.”

“Ye don’ wan’ it t’ be too low an E, though,” Mary said. “’Cause then it might end up bein’ an A, an’ ye won’ ge’ through.”

“And that’s what I’m worried about,” said Lily. “What if I freeze up in the exam, or panic, and I don’t get the E I need? So that’s why I’m revising so hard, Martha, just in case.”

Charlotte shook her head. “I’m with Martha, Lils. You’re going to ace Charms, and even without you reading that book until three in the morning you’ll do that. So just try to relax a bit; you’re more likely to freeze up if you’re tense in the first place.”

My own revision was going along rather well, though I considered some subjects more important than others. I had already decided to drop History of Magic, as the concept of never having to listen to Professor Binns again was far too enticing to ignore. I also planned to drop Care of Magical Creatures and Astronomy, the former because the outdoor classes were generally too cold or wet (or both) for me to enjoy, the latter because I was sick of the late night classes interrupting my routine. (Not to mention Canis Majoris, as there were no guarantees the boys wouldn’t be taking it.) So my revision focused more on Transfiguration and Potions, as McGonagall had recommended, as well as Defence Against the Dark Arts and Ancient Runes. I was good enough at Charms and Herbology to be able to get away with less revision with those, figuring I would get the E necessary to progress to NEWT level without too much difficulty.

Naturally, of course, it didn’t turn out that way, and Lily drew the short straw when she came out of the Charms practical exam, the first of our group in the alphabet after me. “How did you go?” she asked.

I groaned. “Not as well as I’d hoped. You know how I thought I botched at least one or two questions in the theory this morning? Well, just now I forgot the incantation for Cheering Charms.”

“Ugh,” Lily said. “Did you get it in the end though? I hear that’s a decent part of our score.”

“Eventually. At least I wasn’t as bad as Gertie Cresswell – she must have confused Growth Charms with Severing Charms, because instead of cutting her piece of fabric in two she managed to swell it up. It must have been thirty yards wide – completely covered both her and the examiner.”

Lily laughed. “Lucky her. I didn’t have any major freezes, fortunately, but there were a couple of explosions in Larry Gibbon’s corner. I don’t know what he did, but it took ages for the smoke to clear.”

Herbology was better – I was more relaxed going into it and had little difficulty with either the theory or practical portions of the examination. The only problem was when I scared off my Screechsnap by accidentally dropping a bucket load of dragon dung onto it, which forced me to retrieve it from where it was sheltering underneath Greta Catchlove’s table. Astronomy was also less taxing than I had anticipated, though the fact the exam took place at midnight on top of the Astronomy Tower meant I was definitely not at my best for the Care of Magical Creatures exam the following morning. At least I wasn’t too worried if I passed that one or not – I had no idea how I would have coped if, for example, Potions was scheduled for that day.

Once I had completed my Ancient Runes examination on Friday morning, I felt rather more relaxed. The first week was out of the way and I hadn’t needed a single Calming Draught, unlike Gilbert Wagstaff from Slytherin who had something of a nervous breakdown halfway through his Herbology practical after he botched his identification of a couple of self-fertilising shrubs. Heading outside with Martha after the exam, we found Lily, Charlotte and Mary on the lawns not far from the Whomping Willow, enjoying the June sunshine.

“Well, one week down, one to go,” Martha grinned as she flung her bag onto the grass and then sat down herself. “And you know, I haven’t wanted to hex a single examiner yet.”

“Don’ coun’ yer Diricawls,” Mary warned with a smile. “We haven’ ha’ Potions or Transfiguration ye’, ye might wan’ t’ hex someone in tha’.”

Charlotte groaned. “You had to remind me, didn’t you Mary? And here I was just thinking how nice it was to have a few days off.”

“What do you still have, Charlotte?” I asked.

She counted off on her fingers. “Well, Potions, obviously, then History of Magic, then Defence, then Transfiguration, like you lot all have. But I’ve also got Divination after Transfiguration, which is a bit like the calm _after_ the storm.”

“That’s not so bad,” Lily said. “I’ve run the gamut of my electives now, all I’ve got is Potions, History, Defence and Transfiguration. Nice of them to keep the easy ones till last, wasn’t it?”

“Well,” said Mary, “I sugges’ we tak’ this afternoon off entirely an’ then ge’ stuck int’ revision on the weekend an’ all. I thing we deserve some time t’ ourselves.”

Martha beamed at her. “Never were truer words spoken. Right, then. Who wants to go for a swim in the lake after lunch?” She looked around at us, a mischievous smile on her face. “Last one in has to snog the giant squid!!”

****

That weekend was spent sitting around our favourite table by the window in the Gryffindor common room, trying to fill our minds with as much information about Potions as would fit. Needless to say, most of us could think of a more enjoyable way to be spending our time, regardless of how productive it would (or wouldn’t) be.

“This sucks,” Martha said grumpily, looking wistfully out the window where a full moon was illuminating the grounds of the castle. “It’s Saturday night, we should be having a night off having fun, not stuck in here up to our ears in revision!”

“Well, go for it,” Charlotte said evenly, not taking her eyes from the textbook in front of her. “Though don’t blame us when you fail your Potions exam on Monday.”

Martha scowled at her. “And who would I be out having fun with when you lot are all back here?”

Mary grinned. “Oh, I’m sure ye ca’ fin’ someone. There mus’ be a’ leas’ three or four lads who ye haven’ dated ye’.”

Lily smiled too. “Actually, I think there are three just in Gryffindor she hasn’t dated yet. Maybe they’ll be up for a night out.”

Martha shook her head. “I think I’d rather stay here, if that’s the only other option. I spent a good three months on the outskirts of their company which was quite enough, thank you.”

“Good,” said Lily, closing her textbook and putting it on the table in front of her. “Then maybe you can test me on the uses of moonstone in potion making.”

We were interrupted by a couple of the boys in question, Sirius and Peter, who almost tripped over Charlotte’s chair as they hurried through the common room. “Hurry up, Prongs,” Sirius shouted over his shoulder. “You’re going to miss all the fun!”

“Give me a minute, Padfoot,” came James’ voice from somewhere up the boys’ staircase. “I can’t get the Cloak out.”

“Well make it snappy,” said Sirius, who was now standing by the portrait hole looking impatient. “He’ll already be there, we’re late!” And he stood there tapping his foot, arms folded, Peter looking a little nervous, until James appeared on the stairs. “About bloody time,” Sirius said irritably.

“Yeah, yeah,” said James, his head turning abruptly as he passed Lily. “I’m coming.” And all three of them climbed through the portrait hole and disappeared.

Martha looked at us. “What was that all about? Late for what?”

I shrugged. “Beats me. And I didn’t see any evidence of whatever it is James was looking for.”

“Well, they won’t be out too long,” Charlotte said. “It’s well after curfew, they’re bound to get caught.” She paused. “Maybe that’s why Remus wasn’t with them, he didn’t want to be part of whatever it is they’re doing.”

Mary shook her head. “No, he wen’ home fer the weekend. Summit t’ do wi’ tha’ rabbit o’ his. I heard James an’ Sirius gabbin’ aboot it afore the Muggle Studies exam.”

Lily shook her head. “Bad timing, right in the middle of OWLs like that. He won’t be too impressed having his revision interrupted.”

Charlotte grinned. “Though at least he’s missing out on whatever they’ve got planned for tonight. Maybe they did that deliberately, waiting till he was away so he wouldn’t try to stop them.”

“I dread to think what they’re up to,” Martha giggled. “Though I suppose we’ll know all about it soon enough.”

I nodded. “Yeah, us and the rest of the school. Let’s face it, they’re not exactly subtle with their pranks, are they?”

“Or mature,” Mary said.

“I couldn’t agree more,” said Lily. “And speaking of maturity – or lack of it – what _are_ those nicknames?” Her voice was heavy with exaggerated exasperation and I had the impression she’d been dying to bring this up for weeks.

Charlotte nodded. “And which one belongs to who?”

“James is Prongs,” Lily said, then she paused. “I think.”

Martha laughed, her blue eyes twinkling. “Well, I think we can guess where _that_ one came from.”

“Mind out of the gutter, if you please,” Lily said sternly, though she was smiling.

“Is it that high?” asked Charlotte with a giggle. “I thought it was in the sewer.”

“Oh, come on,” said Martha. “Think of who we’re talking about. What in the name of Merlin makes you think that _their_ thought processes are any cleaner than mine?”

Mary laughed. “While ye have a poin’, Martha, think aboot it. Prong _s_.” She emphasised the ‘s’ sound. “Exac’ly hoo many do ye think he has?”

“Doesn’t say much for Peter, though, does it?” I giggled. “They’re calling him Wormtail, right?”

“Can’t say I’m surprised, though,” said Martha through the general laughter. “He doesn’t exactly inspire much confidence in his masculinity, does he?” She waved her little finger in the air mischievously and Lily laughed so hard she almost fell off her chair.

“An’ wha’s Sirius?” asked Mary. “Leadfoot, is tha’ right?”

“Padfoot,” said Lily, who had recovered herself somewhat, though her cheeks were still rather pink. “I’ve got no idea where that comes from. I wouldn’t necessarily call him light on his feet.”

Martha shook her head. “Nup, even I can’t come up with a dirty or perverted interpretation of that. And I know he’s been called it forever, but really, you’d think Moony would be a better name for Sirius than for Remus, with the whole being-named-after-a-star thing.”

“No, he’d rather be a star than a moon,” Mary said. “Defini’ly thinks he’s star material, tha’ one.”

Lily laughed along with the rest of us but soon recovered herself. “While I don’t want to stop you having your fun, ladies,” she said with a mock stern look on her face, “we do have our Potions exam in just over a day and I think it would probably be a good idea if we spent some of that time studying.” And she opened her copy of _Magical Draughts and Potions_ and made a show of continuing her revision.

“You’re right, Lils, as always.” Martha sounded a little disappointed, but she too opened her textbook and started reading, and soon we all followed her example, trying to make sure we were on top of everything we needed to remember.


	11. OWLs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laura and Sirius have a bit of a row just before the Defence exam, and Lily loses her cool with James – and Snape – on the lawns afterwards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author note: Text in bold comes from _Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix_ , chapter 28, “Snape’s Worst Memory”, by JK Rowling.

We all got through the Potions exam fine, Lily probably the best of all, and were soon buckled down studying for our final three exams – History of Magic, Defence Against the Dark Arts, and Transfiguration. The first one was the only of the final three that consisted of just a written exam, while the others had both theory and practical components, so we were busy making sure our spellwork was up to scratch as well as understanding why things worked the way they did.

History of Magic, the world’s most boring class, was also the most boring exam, as all our revision seemed to feature the droning voice of Professor Binns running through our minds, meaning it was all we could do to keep ourselves awake as we read through our notes. Fortunately it was over by midday so we could spend the afternoon getting ready for Defence the next day. The weather was warm and we made the most of the sunshine by taking our books outside and sitting on the lawn by the lake as we practiced spells and tested each other on various dark creatures and counter-curses.

I felt almost ready for the exam just after breakfast the next morning, before our Defence theory paper, when all the fifth-years were herded into a couple of empty classrooms on the ground floor while the Great Hall was cleared and set up for the exam. Like most of the others in there, I had decided to use that time to get a bit of last minute revision in, but kept having my train of thought interrupted by Sirius whining about how hard his life was and how tough it was being a Black who wasn’t into blood purity. Again.

I understood that Sirius most probably did have a rather difficult time of it at times. It was, after all, hard to hear the name ‘Black’ in the wizarding world and not have some kind of preconception about the owner. The trouble was, he occasionally felt the need to ensure everyone knew about it.

I looked up at Mary and rolled my eyes, and she groaned and nodded. In the background you could hear Sirius’ voice rambling on. “And just because of that, she wouldn’t talk to me, said my people had caused enough trouble and if I just went back to my ‘mansion’ and never came out again I’d be doing everyone a favour.” We’d all heard this story a million times before and it was getting old.

“Oh, give it a rest,” I muttered, not meaning for him to hear me. Unfortunately, he was taking a breath at the time and my voice carried in the quiet room.

The front legs of his chair hit the floor with a crash as he spun his head around to look at me. “What?”

“I said, give it a rest,” I said more loudly, steeling myself as I turned and looked him in the eye. I’d got into this by accident, but I decided to hold firm. “It’s old, it’s tired, and it’s not even true anymore. So how about you just get over yourself, _Black_.” I emphasised the name to make my point.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Sirius snarled, reaching for his wand and walking towards me. I stood up to face him. “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said. “You don’t know what it’s like, coming here and everyone thinking they know all about you just because of your name. And you having to fight every step of the way to prove them wrong! Don’t try to pretend you know what that feels like! So shut up about what you don’t understand!” He stood over me intimidatingly, his wand pointing at my chin.

Everyone was watching us now, wondering how it would end up and, most probably, what I would look like once he had finished with me. Although a little uneasy I wasn’t actually all that worried: even if this did make me an enemy of Sirius Black, thanks to Bea I knew enough hexes and the like to give as good as I got, and now I had every intention of following through. And, frankly, he’d just handed me my counter-argument on a platter, though I doubted he realised it.

I looked up at him, feeling like I was half his size but determined to pretend at least that I wasn’t intimidated. “Actually,” I said coldly, trying to remain expressionless as I glanced from his wand to his face, “I know _exactly_ what that feels like. I had exactly the same thing coming here, having to fight against what people thought I’d be like because of my family. Their expectations of me might have been a bit different from their expectations of you, but that doesn’t make my experiences any less valid. And in any case, you’ve succeeded. I doubt you could name three people at this school who still care that you’re a Black.”

As if on cue, as if she had come by deliberately at that exact moment just to illustrate my point, Beatrice and her friend Cynthia walked past the open doorway. Sirius looked at her, then at me, and after a few seconds lowered his wand. He looked chastened.

“Okay,” he said quietly. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” In the background I could see Remus smiling, while James and Peter just looked gobsmacked.

“Apology accepted. Now can I get back to my revision please?”

He nodded mutely, went back to his table and sat down again, his back to the rest of the class.

Sitting back down, I picked up a spare bit of parchment and wrote a short note to Mary. _I think I’ve just committed social suicide_.

Mary read the note and nodded sympathetically. _Worth it, though_ , she wrote back. _It’s a fair effort putting him in his place like that._ I smiled grimly and picked up my textbook again, trying to find where I’d been before the interruption.

McGonagall’s voice suddenly cut across the quiet room. “Fifth-years, kindly make your way to the Great Hall.”

We packed our things away, got up and moved towards the door. Having just humbled the class hero, I wasn’t really expecting anyone other than Mary to talk to me as we made our way out of the spare classroom and headed to the Great Hall for the exam. I was therefore a little surprised when Lily, Martha and Charlotte pushed through the crowd to find us.

“Bravo, Laura,” said Lily, grinning. “That was fantastic!”

“You think?” I said.

“Absolutely,” said Charlotte. “You’re pretty much the only person in our year who could have set him straight like that. And that was worth bottling, the look on his face when he realised you were right!”

“Yeah, I doubt we’ll ever see the likes of that again,” Martha said. “He won’t let it happen, he can’t be brought down like that in front of the whole year. His ego won’t allow it.”

Lily gave her a friendly punch on the arm. “And this from the girl who six months ago was dating him.”

Martha laughed. “Yep, that’s right. If you recall, I was under no illusions about him then and I’m under even less now.”

“Seriously, though, Laura,” Lily said, “we’re really proud of you, standing up for yourself like that.” And with a smile and a wink, she turned around and sailed through the now open door into the Great Hall, where Professor Flitwick was waiting for us.

****

Mary and I were joined again by Lily, Martha and Charlotte when the exam finished. We filed out of the castle and into the sunshine, Charlotte chattering away about it.

“I got the werewolf stuff okay,” she was saying, “but I think I might have stuffed up on vampires. They’re not all bats, are they?”

“Sorry, no,” said Mary as we made our way down to the black lake. The sunlight was reflecting off its surface and we sat down on the bank and took off our socks and shoes, bathing our feet in the water. “I was havin’ trouble takin’ the Boggart question seriously.”

We all started laughing. We’d had a memorable lesson during fourth year where we had learned to fight off a Boggart, which was a shape shifting entity that turned itself into what the beholder feared most. Unfortunately for our Boggart it had seen me and Charlotte simultaneously, and therefore had two images to choose from. My greatest fear was a headless corpse while Charlotte’s apparently was a flesh-eating slug, and the Boggart, unable to select one, had decided instead to go for a combination of the two. The result was it became half a slug, which was definitely more amusing than frightening, and the laughter from the class had nearly been too much for it.

“Oh, look at that,” Lily said suddenly, her eyes just past us to the lake’s edge. Turning around, we could see James Potter and his friends lounging underneath the beech tree, James playing with a Snitch, letting it go and then catching it easily. “That was stolen from Madam Hooch’s supplies. Remus is a prefect, he should be saying something.” She shook her head in frustration.

Martha looked at her sharply. “Sure that’s the only reason you’re watching him, Lils?”

Lily blushed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, sounding like she was trying to convince herself more than she was Martha. She was now resolutely looking anywhere but underneath the beech tree.

“’Course you do,” said Charlotte. “You’ve fancied him for yonks.”

“No I haven’t!” Lily insisted. “He’s arrogant, and juvenile, and a show-off, and a bully, and egotistical, and …”

“The lady doth protest too much, methinks,” I said, quoting _Hamlet_ and hoping Lily as a Muggle-born would get the reference. Sure enough, she threw me a dirty look.

“Not you too,” she said, pouting. “I was sure you’d be on my side.”

Even Mary was laughing now. “What makes ye think we don’ have eyes an’ ears, Lily?”

“Yeah,” said Charlotte. “Just because they’re quiet doesn’t mean they don’t notice things. And you _are_ pretty obvious sometimes, Lils.”

Martha suddenly stopped mid-giggle and stared, thunderstruck, over our shoulders at something on the lawn. We all turned to look.

James and Sirius had left their spot by the beech tree and had their wands trained on Severus Snape, who looked like he’d been hit by an Impediment Jinx. Like most of the students on the lawn, we watched silently, somewhat apprehensive.

If looks could kill, James would have been dead several times over from the glare Snape was giving him. It seemed he’d been Disarmed already, as we heard him let out a barrage of swear words and hexes without effect, which surely would not have been possible if he’d still had his wand on him.

“What are they doing?” asked Lily, addressing no one in particular. She looked horrified. “That’s four against one!” Which wasn’t strictly true, as Remus and Peter weren’t taking part, but we knew what she meant.

James appeared unimpressed by the foul language Severus was spouting. “ **Wash out your mouth** ,” I heard him snarl. “ ** _Scourgify_!** ” Sure enough, on cue a wad of pink soap bubbles started coming out of Snape’s mouth, and several bystanders started laughing. Lily, who had moved from horrified to furious, stood up and stormed over to them.

“ **Leave him ALONE!** ” she shouted. I could understand why she was angry – here was the boy she had a secret crush on, turning someone she had been friends with for years into a laughing stock.

“You know,” I said quietly, “after this morning, I suspected that might have been me they were having a go at. Good thing Snivellus is around instead!”

Martha giggled. “Nah, they won’t come after you, you’re with us.” I acknowledged her point. “Besides, I think Remus agreed with you.”

James had jumped at the sound of Lily’s voice and his hand automatically went to his hair, checking it was messy enough. “ **All right, Evans?** ” he asked, putting on his ‘Lily voice’.

She was unimpressed. “ **Leave him alone** ,” she repeated. “ **What’s he done to you?** ”

James pretended to think about that. “ **Well,** ” he said, “ **it’s more the fact that he exists, if you know what I mean …** ”

We of course knew it was more than that – James, like the rest of us, was convinced Snape fancied Lily, and therefore lost no opportunity to put him down so Lily would never seriously consider him. And we couldn’t ignore the fact Snape would never miss an opportunity to hex James, either. However, he couldn’t exactly say that to Lily’s face and, judging from the laughter from surrounding students, as well as from Sirius and Peter, what he came up with was reason enough.

“We shouldn’t be listening in,” Charlotte said nervously. “This has nothing to do with us.”

Martha shook her head. “Nah, Lily will want to talk about this once it’s over, so we need to be informed.” She grinned as we turned our attention back to the ever-increasing spectacle in front of us.

Even with her back to us, we could feel Lily’s glare from our spot by the lake. “ **You think you’re funny,** ” she said coldly, “ **but you’re just an arrogant, bullying toerag, Potter. Leave him _alone_.** ”

Severus had stopped gagging on the pink soap bubbles and the movement was starting to come back to his legs; the Impediment Jinx, if that was what it was, seemed to be wearing off.

“ **I will if you’ll go out with me, Evans** ,” James said hopefully. “ **Go on … go out with me and I’ll never lay a wand on old Snivelly again.** ”

Back at the lake, we all groaned. James really fancied her, but his timing was absolutely atrocious. She’d never go out with him at this rate.

Lily obviously agreed. “ **I wouldn’t go out with you if it was a choice between you and the giant squid** ,” she said clearly, her voice carrying across the lawn. James looked physically deflated as he turned his face, looking half way between Lily and Snape, apparently not seeing anything.

Sirius was saying something in the background, looking quite unconcerned at his friend’s evident trauma. Suddenly his voice got significantly louder. “ **OI!** ”

Snape had managed to locate his wand and aimed it at James’ back. James whirled around, and when we could see the other side of him we realised Snape had hit him with a curse of some sort, as a gash had appeared on his cheek and blood was dripping onto his robes.

“He shouldn’t have attacked him when his back was turned,” Charlotte said angrily. “That was low.” We all nodded our heads in agreement.

Next thing we knew, Severus had been _Levicorpus_ ed and was dangling upside down, as we all had at some point or other, revealing skinny, pallid legs and a pair of mangy grey pants. I was surprised he hadn’t started wearing shorts or trousers under his robes like the rest of us had – surely he hadn’t seriously thought no one would use the spell on him? In any case Lily’s voice cracked somewhat as she ordered James to let him down. We still couldn’t see her face, but I was guessing she was trying not to smile.

James obliged, but as soon as Snape landed Sirius put a full body bind on him, presumably to stop him doing the cutting curse again. This was too much for Lily, who got her own wand out at this point.

“ **LEAVE HIM ALONE!!!** ” she bellowed furiously. James and Sirius, who had been on the receiving end of her jinxes more than once, eyed her warily.

“ **Ah, Evans, don’t make me hex you** ,” James said, obviously hoping he wouldn’t end up doing something he may regret.

“ **Take the curse off him, then** ,” Lily said promptly. I was sure she was having fun with him, as we all knew she could take it off as well as he could. _Petrificus totalus_ wasn’t a spell that needed to be removed by the caster – who had been Sirius, in any case. This was one thing James hadn’t really had anything to do with.

In any case, James finally relented. Only for Lily would he stop having a go at Snape mid-hex. “ **There you go,** ” he said to Severus, who was getting to his feet. “ **You’re lucky Evans was here, Snivellus –** ”

Snape cut him off. “ **I don’t need help from filthy little Mudbloods like her!** ”

Lily stopped dead as the watching student body held their collective breath. Surely he hadn’t just said that? In front of everyone? And, thought those of us who knew her well, not to Lily, of all people?

“ **Fine** ,” she said eventually, once she’d found her voice. “ **I won’t bother in future. And I’d wash your pants if I were you, _Snivellus_.** ”

That, if nothing else, told us just how upset Lily was. In all the five years we’d been at school, not once had she referred to him as Snivellus, and she’d chastised us repeatedly when we’d done it. They were friends. Well, they _were_ friends. Not anymore, apparently.

James was furious on Lily’s behalf. “ **Apologise to Evans!** ” he shouted, his wand trained on Snape once more.

Lily was obviously upset enough to take it out on the first person she saw. “ **I don’t want _you_ to make him apologise!** ” she yelled, turning on him. “ **You’re just as bad as he is!** ” And she went on a loud rant about everything about him that aggravated her. When she finally finished, shouting “ **You make me _sick_** ,” and stormed off, James looked rather like he’d just been through a duel with Voldemort himself.

Lily was still fuming as she made her way back to us by the lake’s edge, stomping her bare feet as hard as she could on the lawn as she came. Charlotte jumped to her feet and went to meet her.

“It’s okay, Lils,” she said, putting an arm around her shoulders. “They’re not worth getting worked up over. None of them.” From close up we could see Lily had started to cry, most probably from a combination of frustration, anger and betrayal.

Martha joined them. “Besides, I think you might wake up the giant squid if you make the ground shake any more, and then you might have to go out with it. Rather than James, I mean.” She grinned, and Lily smiled through her tears.

“Why do I let him do it to me?” she asked, sitting down again and thrusting her feet rather violently back into the water, as though that would make it all go away. “Why do I let him get to me so much?”

“Because you know that, deep down, he’s a good person,” Charlotte said evenly. “He just hasn’t got there yet.”

“And it was a bit of a unique situation,” said Martha. “The boy you fancy is hexing your friend, and doesn’t listen to you when you ask him to stop. And then your friend, or should I say ex-friend, calls you the worst name anyone can call you. So you’re upset by that, and you take it out on James.”

“I did a bit, didn’t I?” she said quietly, for the first time not denying she fancied James. “But Sev – how could he have said that?”

“He says it aboot every other Muggle-born in the school,” Mary said dryly. “It’s only you he’s never called tha’. An’ tha’s because he’s go’ the world’s bigges’ crush on ye.”

“No he doesn’t,” Lily insisted, shaking her head and still refusing to see it for what it was. “He can’t have. You wouldn’t call someone you fancied that word, would you?”

“I don’t know,” I said, trying to look at it from Snape’s point of view. “He was under a fair amount of stress and was being humiliated by his arch rival, in front of you no less. He could have said it as a defence mechanism.”

“I suppose,” Lily conceded, thinking about it. Her eyes were drying out but she still looked a little blotchy. “Doesn’t matter now, does it, whether he fancies me or not? ’Cause I’ve had it. I’m not speaking to him again.”

“Do you mean Snivellus or James?” asked Charlotte, looking a little worried she might be talking about James.

“Sev, of course,” said Lily, doing another first in ignoring Charlotte’s use of Snape’s nickname. “I’m sick of making excuses for him, I’m sick of defending him all the time. But I’m sure I’ll speak to James again. Oh no,” she gasped, something hitting her suddenly. “Did I really say his head was too big to fit on his broomstick?”

Martha laughed. “Yep, and more,” she said airily. “All true, of course, but that doesn’t make it any easier for him to hear.”

“But he’ll be horrified!” she said, her green eyes widening. “He’ll think I’m awful!”

I joined in the general laughter. “Lily,” I said, “I wouldn’t get too worried if I were you. I suspect you could compare him to You-Know-Who himself, and James wouldn’t take offence.”

Lily acknowledged the point. “Yes, I suppose,” she said wearily.

There was another palaver behind us, and we turned to see Snape had again been _Levicorpus_ ed, and James’ loud voice was threatening to remove his mangy grey pants. Lily looked too exhausted to care, so we made a point of turning our backs on the noise and trying to ignore the cheers that came a moment later.

****

That evening Mary and I made a point of heading to the library to get some more revision done. While we preferred studying in the common room, sometimes the noise and bustle in there made it almost impossible and our last exam, Transfiguration, was the next day. Finally, after about three hours, complete with Madam Pince, the librarian, chasing us out and locking the door behind us, we made our way back to Gryffindor Tower.

We were chatting amiably and idly Transfiguring our textbooks into parrots and back again when we reached the portrait hole. I was just about to say the password when a dark figure stepped from the shadows and we instinctively gripped our wands tightly, not releasing this grip when we saw it was Severus Snape. Mary in particular was on her guard, this being unnervingly similar to her earlier encounter with Irving Mulciber.

Snape, however, appeared to be unarmed. Not only that, he looked almost forlorn, as he moved to stand between us and the Fat Lady.

“Cauldwell. Macdonald. You have to help me.” He sounded as bereft as he looked.

Mary eyed him with a mix of dread and revulsion. “We don’ _have_ t’ do anything, Snivellus.”

“Please, I’ll do anything …”

“What is it you want, Snape?” I cut in. “Why are you hanging around Gryffindor Tower anyway?” I wasn’t particularly happy that he even knew where the entrance to the Gryffindor common room was – I certainly couldn’t have found the Slytherin equivalent if you’d paid me.

“I need … to see … Lily … to explain …” he mumbled. “She needs to understand! Please!”

I looked at him scornfully. “Didn’t you call her a Mudblood today?”

He went even paler than usual, if that was possible.

“Well then,” I said, “what makes you think she’d want to see you?”

“She has to! Please!” He was begging now, looking rather pathetic, and part of me started wondering how much James and Sirius would pay to see him like this. Probably quite a lot, come to think of it. “If she doesn’t come out tonight, I’ll - I’ll sleep in the corridor, I’ll catch her when she comes out in the morning!”

Mary and I looked at each other. Plainly the boy was desperate.

“We’ll see,” said Mary. “I’ll a’ leas’ tell her ye’re here an’ all. It’s up t’ her if she wants t’ defile herself by associating wi’ the likes o’ you.”

You could see the relief flooding through his body as he stood aside and let us get to the Fat Lady. She had been watching the whole encounter and had an astute look in her eye.

“Girls,” she said before we could give the password, “I don’t think you should say the password out loud tonight. Not in present company.” And she swung open in front of our gobsmacked faces.

Carefully shutting the portrait hole behind us, Mary and I looked at each other again. “Are you actually going to tell her?” I asked.

“Prob’ly shoul’, otherwise he might stay there all night, an’ who wants t’ see _tha’_ firs’ thing in the morn?” I nodded: she certainly had a point.

“Oi! Lily!” she called out, searching out the redhead among all the students studying at the rickety tables. She wasn’t anywhere to be seen, so we made our way up to the dorm where we found her getting ready for bed.

Mary told her briefly what had happened. Lily stood stock still, plainly taking it all in, and then shook her head furiously. “I _told_ him, that’s it, I’m not speaking to him again!”

“He did threaten t’ stay there all night,” Mary pointed out.

Lily hesitated. “Oh, if it will just get rid of him, once and for all,” she muttered crossly and, putting on her dressing gown, she stormed down the stairs and out the portrait hole to confront Snape.

She was out there for a good ten minutes, but the thick castle walls insulated us from the sound of their conversation. Not from lack of trying on our part, but not even Lily’s enraged yells (we were assuming that was what she was doing) could get through the stone. Eventually she climbed back through the portrait hole, looking surprisingly calm, and came over to where we had settled at an empty table with some Transfiguration revision.

“He’s gone,” she said simply, and went back up to the dorm.

 


	12. Diagon Alley

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unexpected conversation with Sirius, exams finish, Bea graduates, then holidays. The girls all take a holiday shopping trip to Diagon Alley – though that doesn’t exactly go as planned.

Just as Mary and I were trying to work out whether we should be thrilled or astonished Lily had finally abandoned her long friendship with Severus Snape, we were interrupted by Sirius Black, who was hovering by our table, his hands deep in his pockets, looking rather sheepish. Standing a little way behind him, obviously encouraging him, was Remus.

Sirius indicated an empty chair. “Is it okay if I sit down?”

“It’s a free country,” said Mary. “Do what ye like.”

He sat down uncomfortably. “Uh, Cauldwell, I’ve, er, come to apologise,” he mumbled, looking at the surface of the table in front of him.

I looked at him in surprise. “Apologise? What for?”

“For this morning,” he said, raising his head and looking at me. “Before the exam,” he clarified, seeing the blank look on my face.

“Oh, that,” I said, remembering our little row that morning. “I thought you’d already apologised.”

“That was for what I said,” he said, evidently warming to the task. “This is for what I didn’t say.”

Mary was looking at him with interest. “What are ye talkin’ aboot, Black?”

“You said … you said I’d succeeded, that there weren’t three people in the school who still cared that I’m a Black,” he said, addressing me.

“Yeah, that sounds about right,” I said, trying to remember the conversation.

“And by extension, I think,” he went on, “you meant there are a lot of people who still care that you’re a Cauldwell. That is, they treat you like they’d treat your sister.”

“Well, yes,” I said, rather impressed he’d recognised that. I hadn’t expected him to think past what I had actually said. In fact, I hadn’t expected him to even remember what I’d said after five minutes had passed.

“And we do that, don’t we,” he said. “We treat you like ‘her sister’, rather than like you.”

I just looked at him, stunned. He’d worked that out? Because that was precisely how everyone treated me: Bea’s sister. Well, not the girls in my dorm, but pretty much everyone else.

Mary was looking from his face to mine, trying to read what would happen next.

“Yeah. You do,” I said quietly. “But then so do a ton of other people. I didn’t mean to have a go at you for that.”

He sighed. “But that’s not fair. Particularly from me. I’ve been a total hypocrite for five years, and you’ve just taken it without ever saying anything.”

“I ‘just take’ a lot of things, Black,” I said. “Life’s all about ‘just taking’ things. I just wanted you to realise it’s not all about you, that other people have problems a lot like yours and they deal with them. So hopefully you would stop making such a fuss about it, because I know what it’s like and it’s not that important.”

He nodded. “I’m really sorry. We’ll make more of an effort to treat you like Laura from now on, not like Beatrice’s sister.”

“Thank you,” I said, smiling. “I appreciate that.”

He nodded again and rose from the table, going back to Remus, who grinned broadly and clapped him on the back as they made their way up the boys’ stairs.

I looked at Mary. “Who would have thought he was that perceptive?”

“Or Remus is tha’ perceptive,” she said. “He was hoverin’ in the background the whole time, it looked lik’ it was his idea.”

“Good point,” I said. “Makes more sense too. I wouldn’t have thought Sirius Black paid that much attention to anyone other than himself.”

“Me neither,” she said. “Maybe we shoul’ be makin’ tracks, too. Another exam on the morn, we don’ wan’ t’ be too tired fer it.”

I nodded and, packing up my books, followed her up the stairs.

****

It’s probably unnecessary to mention we were all incredibly relieved the next day once our Transfiguration exam was over (except Charlotte, who still had Divination). The theory paper had been simple enough, even if I did temporarily forget the definition of a Switching Spell, but the practical had been more of a trial. I managed to get through it reasonably well, I thought, and probably scraped a good enough mark to be able to continue the subject during NEWTs, but others seemingly didn’t do so well. Leda Minchum from Hufflepuff managed to accidentally Transfigure her cricket into a camel, and Peter Pettigrew succumbed to a fit of nerves and somehow Vanished his examiner. Fortunately Professor Dumbledore was on hand and according to those who were in there did some rather quick spell casting to successfully recover the poor woman, but it was still sufficiently interesting to spread around the Great Hall like wildfire that evening at dinner.

The last exam, Divination, took place the following day, and then even Charlotte had finished. Finally, we could breathe easily again. It was all over. All I had left for the remainder of the school year, aside from lounging around in the sun with the other fifth-years, was attending Bea’s prize giving ceremony, which was to take place on the last day before we left to go home for the summer. Mum and Dad were making the trip north for the occasion and had expressly written to me asking that I join them in the audience so I felt rather honour-bound to go, even if I wasn’t much inclined.

“So, are ye ready fer the ceremony?” Mary asked with a grin as we finished lunch in the Great Hall that day.

“I suppose so,” I said. “Have to make sure Beatrice Cauldwell’s little sister is there to see her off.” I rolled my eyes dramatically and made a face.

Mary, who was used to this, just laughed. “I mus’ say, it’s better t’ be Andrew Macdonald’s little sister than Beatrice Caul’well’s. Bu’ admi’ it, ye wan’ proof she’s actually leavin’, don’ ye?”

“Now there’s a point.” I cracked a smile. “But let’s be honest here. I’m expected to go to her ceremony, but what’s the bet she doesn’t come to mine in two years? Seriously, the chances are zero of that happening. So what am I doing going to hers?”

“Makin’ sure she actually leaves,” Mary said again.

“Yeah, okay. You’ve talked me into it.” Much as I liked to complain about it, I recognised that I would be doing just what my parents had asked of me and attending anyway, and at two o’clock I dutifully met Mum and Dad in the Entrance Hall and took my place with them in the audience. I listened to Dumbledore’s speech and clapped like everyone else when those students who had topped the school in each subject went up one by one to receive their certificates.

Oddly enough, Bea wasn’t one of them. Yes she was brilliant, but as I had noted during the Easter holidays she had never really learned how to study. So we watched Damocles Belby get the prize for Potions, and Stamford Jorkins for Charms, and Meera Patil for Transfiguration, but not Bea. Not for anything, not even a nod for being runner-up. It was both fascinating and disappointing (from a family perspective) to see the great Beatrice Cauldwell, brilliant witch, sinking to become one of the rest, the also-rans, those who didn’t stand out in any real way.

I think Mum and Dad were rather disappointed in Bea’s non-appearance on stage, but I wasn’t really all that surprised. Her lack of actual study meant she was always going to be overtaken by those who did put the work in and diligently applied themselves to the subject. And it was a stern lesson to me, that no matter how brilliant you are you can never just rest on your laurels and expect things to fall your way. I’m not sure I would have been one to rest on my laurels anyway – being Bea’s little sister meant no matter how well I did, it was only to be expected because she’d done it first – but it was still a valuable lesson, even if the reward was partly the petty hope of getting one up on her in two years’ time when it was my turn. (Yes, I know, not exactly mature, but then what do you expect for a sixteen year old who’s spent her life being overshadowed?)

Anyway, finally it ended, and as soon as I could I made a subtle exit and joined the rest of the girls on the lawns by the lake, where they’d been enjoying the June sunshine and trying to get pebbles to skip across the water in the direction of the giant squid. It was all over, we’d finished the dreaded OWL year, and tomorrow we would be going home. Life was good.

****

The summer holidays were much the same as usual – reading, watching films and gardening – with the exception of Bea, now qualified, looking for a job. And me, of course, having some more friends, which was lovely – while I adored Mary and she was still my best friend, it was nice getting letters from other people occasionally. Speaking of this, in August I got a letter from Lily, via the Muggle post as she sometimes had trouble getting to an owl office and didn’t have one of her own. Ever the socialite, she invited Mary and me to join her, Martha and Charlotte for their annual shopping trip down Diagon Alley, ostensibly for school supplies but also to check out the latest robes in Madam Malkin’s and any new stock at Madam Primpenelle’s. While I had to be in the right mood to get into trying on clothes or looking at beautifying potions, I liked the idea of catching up with them before school went back and hurried to get permission.

Mum was initially a bit hesitant until I pointed out that Charlotte’s mother would accompany us as a chaperone, and she eventually agreed I could go, happier with that proposal than the idea of me going just with Dad or as part of a smaller group. There is, after all, safety in numbers. So I sent Dad’s owl, Koukou, off on the trip to Warwickshire to tell Lily I would definitely be there.

I arrived at the Leaky Cauldron at the appointed time to find Lily and Martha were already there, sitting at one of the dingy tables with some butterbeers in front of them.

“Morning, ladies,” I said, moving a pile of Ministry pamphlets advising how to protect oneself against the Death Eaters to another table so I could sit down. “How did these get here?”

Lily shrugged. “They’re on every table. Not that they’re much use I wouldn’t think, but apparently the Ministry wants them to be well distributed.”

Martha nodded. “Yep, we got a stack in the post the other day. Lots of tosh about travelling in groups and learning how to cast Shield Charms – all really obvious stuff you’d think a first-year would be able to figure out, let alone a qualified adult. So anyway, how are you?”

“Right as rain. I’m really enjoying this summer. Bea’s finally got her NEWTs so she’s running around like a madwoman telling the world she’s qualified, and she’s even talking about getting some of those spells she invented approved by the Ministry. And for once people are actually paying attention to me, though that might have something to do with the fact I did better in my OWLs than any of them expected.”

Lily smiled. “How did you go?”

I thought about it. “O for Herbology, E for Charms, Defence, Transfiguration, Potions and Runes, A for Care of Magical Creatures and History of Magic. I failed Astronomy though – all I could think of during the exam was bloody Canis Majoris!”

Martha laughed. “That’d have to put you off. Though I knew you were smarter than you made out,” she said. “I got no Os at all – unlike Lils here …”

Lily blushed. “Well, I did a lot of revision so it was bound to pay off.”

Martha punched her on the arm. “Always the modest one, aren’t you? No, Laura, Lily got four Os and the rest were Es. We all knew she was brilliant, but I hadn’t realised quite how brilliant.”

Lily went even redder, but was saved from responding by the arrival of Charlotte and her mum. “Charlotte! Mrs Trimble! How are you?”

I’d not met Charlotte’s mother before so Martha carried out introductions while we waited for Mary. It seemed Mrs Trimble had accompanied the girls on their shopping trip the previous year and so knew what they had in mind, and rather surprisingly encouraged it. For some reason I’d always imagined Charlotte’s family to be somewhat straight-laced, most probably due to the book on the Dark Arts her uncle had written, but Mrs Trimble was apparently all for trying out beautifying potions and going into Gambol & Japes looking for love potions. Needless to say it was extremely clear why she had been chosen as our chaperone.

About ten minutes and two butterbeers later Mary arrived, accompanied by her brother Andrew and apologising profusely for being late. It seemed her mother had insisted Andrew accompany her to the meeting point, and he needed to go to Gringotts so it wasn’t out of his way, but he’d not been able to find his wand when it was time for them to leave and so had hunted around for a few minutes looking for it. (In the end, a Summoning Charm from Mary did the trick – it had been hiding underneath a pile of freshly-washed clothes, which was somewhere no self-respecting twenty-one year old boy would ever look.)

Martha immediately went into full flirting mode when she saw Andrew – he was tall and dark and I guess rather attractive if you went for that sort of thing. I’d known him for so long I’d never even considered him as a potential boyfriend: this tends to happen when you grow up feeling like someone is the older brother you never had. Fortunately (or, from Martha’s perspective, rather unfortunately) he wasn’t interested and, after making sure Mary was well settled, quickly headed out the back so he could get his banking done.

“Mary, you sly thing!” Martha said once he had disappeared. “You never even mentioned him!”

Mary shrugged while I giggled to myself. “Well,” she said, “if ye’d bin payin’ attention in aboot secon’ year ye woul’ have known him then. He was in Gryffindor too, ye know.”

“He was?” Martha looked very surprised. “Why didn’t I ever notice?”

Charlotte laughed. “Probably because you weren’t really interested in boys then. Besides, what second-year ever looks seriously at a seventh-year? It just doesn’t happen.”

“I guess,” Martha said. “Is he single, though?”

Mary shook her head. “Sorry, Martha, bu’ no,” she said with a grin. “He’s had a girlfrien’ fer aboot a year now. An’ she’s legal an’ qualified an’ everything, so ye don’ have much o’ a chance.”

Lily was getting red-faced from laughing. “Martha Hornby, you’re a worry,” she said fondly. “Anything with testosterone and you’re onto it like a shot.”

Martha giggled. “I know. But there’s not all that much to choose from at school, so I have to keep an eye out during the holidays.” She winked mischievously at us. “Anyone else got any brothers I don’t know about?”

Charlotte looked at her mother and laughed. “How about Clarrie?” He was a couple of years younger than her and had unfortunately missed out on her classic good looks.

Martha shook her head. “Sorry, Charlotte, but I think I’d prefer someone a little older than Clarrie. Maybe even my age.” She looked hopefully at me. “Laura, anyone you’re hiding?”

I shook my head. “Only two kids in my family, and I don’t think you really want to snog Bea.”

Lily had recovered herself and took charge. “Right, girls,” she said, “I can’t help but notice that while we’re in here all the shops are out there, potentially selling out of everything we want to buy.” She indicated the back of the pub with her thumb. “So now we’ve all finished our drinks …”

Mrs Trimble nodded. “Absolutely right, Lily. This shopping isn’t doing itself. Besides, I got a catalogue from Madam Primpernelle’s the other day, and they’ve got a lot of new stock in just for this season.” And with that we got our things together and wandered out as a group into Diagon Alley.

The street had changed a bit since the last time I was there. The fear produced by Voldemort and the Death Eaters meant a new black market in good luck charms and new defensive spells was starting to flourish, and there were a number of shabby stalls on the street flogging things like amulets, home-made potions and instructions for new shield spells which would, according to the peddlers, protect you even against an _Avada Kedavra_. Yeah, right, I’d believe that when I saw it. No one had ever survived a direct AK and I hadn’t seen any evidence it had started happening in the last couple of years thanks to these new spells.

In addition, the atmosphere of increasing fear meant people were less likely to spend their time in the open browsing through different shops, so half the businesses had closed down due to lack of patronage, their now empty windows plastered with poster versions of the Ministry pamphlets I had tossed aside so blithely in the Leaky Cauldron. The end result was that even though it was a lovely day weather-wise, we preferred to spend our time indoors rather than out.

“How about we get the school things first,” Lily suggested once we’d finished in Gringotts, “and that gets that out of the way so we can get to the fun stuff without worrying about running out of time to do everything else.”

“Good idea, Lily,” Mrs Trimble said with a smile. “Now, does anyone need new robes? No? Right then, perhaps we should start with Flourish and Blott’s.”

That was a little problematic as none of us were certain what classes we would be doing in sixth year, but we had a fair idea based on OWL results and therefore shopped accordingly. From there we dropped into the apothecary and stationer’s, making sure all necessary stores were topped up.

Once we had all our school supplies we headed to Florean Fortescue’s ice cream parlour for a bit of a treat before descending on Madam Malkin’s for a look at the latest season’s fashions. However, unlike what we would probably have done in previous years we elected to sit at a table inside the ice cream parlour, as no one was all that keen on spending time outside.

Of course, some indoor spots were infinitely better than others. Madam Malkin’s, for example, was chock-full of new season robes, as well as the ubiquitous school uniforms, so we spent rather a tidy spell in there checking out things like how different colours and cuts suited us, and wishing we had more gold so we could buy some of the more striking dress robes. Not that there was a Yule Ball this year, but it’s always nice to have a set of nice robes in one’s wardrobe, and I could have really used the beautifying variety. (Yes, okay, I was turning into more of a girl. I blamed Lily, Martha and Charlotte; it was all their influence. I would never have spent an hour in Madam Malkin’s before I started hanging out with them.)

From there we went to Madam Primpernelle’s, which stocked things like beautifying potions and the like. Not that Lily, Martha or Charlotte needed any, but Mary and I could do with all the help we could get. Unfortunately, I discovered, those sorts of things are only temporary – the only thing that will give you natural long-lasting good looks are good genes, and those I definitely did not have. Oh well. Back to the drawing board.

The mood in Diagon Alley had deteriorated significantly in the time between us going into Madam Primpernelle’s and leaving it, and we all shuddered and looked at each other in despair. A cold feeling enveloped me and I felt like all the happiness was draining out. Mrs Trimble stopped abruptly and pulled her wand out, holding out an arm to stop us from moving.

“Go back inside, girls,” she said. “Stay there until I say it’s okay to come out.”

“Why?” Charlotte looked worried. “What’s happening?”

“Dementors,” Mrs Trimble muttered. “I’d heard the Ministry had lost control of some of them.” Her voice suddenly became louder and more authoritative. “Go on, all of you. Back inside. I’ll be with you in a jiffy.”

Horrified, we obediently went into the nearest building, which was the fortified structure that was Gringotts. Some of the goblins inside looked at us oddly but Charlotte, who was suddenly all business, went up to the nearest one and explained what was happening outside, and they seemed to relax and were happy to let us shelter in there for a little while.

Meanwhile, outside, Mrs Trimble was casting furtive looks up and down the street until she spotted someone she recognised and hurried over to him. After speaking to him for a minute or so she came into the bank to join us. “That’s Rufus Scrimgeour,” she said, “from the Auror’s office. He’ll be able to call in some reinforcements to deal with this.”

Lily looked resolute. “We studied Dementors in Defence last year, but we never learned how to stop them.”

Mrs Trimble nodded. “Yes, there is a spell, but it’s rather more advanced than something they would normally teach fifth-years. I can barely do it myself, and that’s with Quentin trying to teach me.”

I was still feeling cold and miserable, and from the faces of the girls around me they were too. Professor Dingle had recreated the effects of a Dementor attack during class last year, but I realised now it had been a poor imitation of the real thing. This was horrible. Terrifying, draining, like the sun would never come out again and I would always be trapped in darkness. I clutched my wand tightly, feeling extraordinarily helpless in the face of what I recognised may soon become the norm.

After what felt like hours (but was probably only a matter of minutes) the mood suddenly lifted, and we looked outside to see a number of very confident-looking witches and wizards sending what seemed to be silvery shapes from their wands towards the Dementors. They had scattered under the onslaught of whatever it was and dispersed with surprising speed.

We wandered back outside a few minutes later, Mrs Trimble wanting to make sure any danger had in fact disappeared before letting us loose in the street again. However, she needn’t have worried. We were still rather shaken from what had happened and huddled together in a small group, just wanting to get out of there.

I was still trembling a little when I arrived back home not long afterwards via the Leaky Cauldron’s Floo service. Whatever spell the Aurors had used against the Dementors had lifted the feelings of dread rather significantly, but it hadn’t taken them away entirely and I was surprised to see the sun was out in Bristol when I got there – it seemed like I’d forgotten it could come out at all. Mum, who wasn’t working that day, noticed my mood immediately, so I sat down and explained what had happened.

“I knew it was a risk letting you go today,” she said. “What if they’d got you? I know what Dementors can do to someone if they catch them.”

I shuddered involuntarily – the Dementor’s Kiss was its worst weapon: the creature put what it called a mouth on yours and sucked your soul out of you. Of course Mum would know about that – it was something both she and Dad dealt with at work on an unnervingly increasing basis.

“I don’t think it would have actually come to that,” I said. “Mrs Trimble was pretty quick in ordering us inside, she knew what to do and she got the Aurors there quick smart.”

Mum shook her head. “But still,” she said, “I wish it hadn’t happened. You’re all pale and clammy, not like yourself at all.”

I nodded. “I wish it hadn’t happened too. But I think we did as well as could be expected under the circumstances. I just wish we knew that spell that gets rid of them.”

“Well, it sounds like the Aurors knew what they were doing in any case,” Mum admitted. “But I think you need a cuppa and a lie down. I’ll put the kettle on. Go to your room and I’ll bring your tea up in a minute. And how about a couple of pikelets go with it?”

I smiled. “Thanks, Mum.” That felt like exactly what I needed, and I went upstairs to dump my things in my room and collapse onto the bed.

Not long after I’d finished my tea and pikelets an owl arrived, surprisingly enough from Lily, though I recognised the bird as the one belonging to Charlotte. Lily must have borrowed it after our little expedition. In its beak was a hurriedly scrawled note.

> _Dear Laura_
> 
> _Did you make it home all right? What a day! I can’t believe that Diagon Alley, of all places, had a Dementor attack. I’m incredibly sorry about what happened, we’ve never had one of our shopping trips interrupted like that before and I feel a bit lost because we weren’t able to finish. So I just wanted you to know that our days out are not usually like that at all, so please don’t judge us too harshly._
> 
> _Anyway, if you think you can face it we will try to do another trip, maybe at Christmas time or in any case next summer, and I’ll try to organise it for a day the Dementors aren’t coming along to spoil things. And, worst case scenario, I suppose we can try something along the same lines at Hogsmeade one weekend._
> 
> _So again, I’m sorry. It’s taken much too long for you and Mary to come with us on one of these trips and this had to happen on your first one! But hopefully we’ll have lots of opportunities to do this again and things will go according to plan next time._
> 
> _Love,  
>  Lily._

I smiled broadly. Like I could think harshly of Lily – what was there not to like? (Unless I suddenly became Dione Turpin, of course, but that seemed unlikely in the foreseeable future. Or any future at all, really.) Let’s face it, no one could blame her for the Dementors, no matter how they made us feel, because no one could possibly know when they were going to attack or where. It was just the nature of the war – no matter how well you planned things, or how much you wanted them to go right, some things just couldn’t be relied upon. I grabbed a quill and some parchment and quickly scribbled a note back, saying of course I wouldn’t judge her harshly and none of it was her fault, and aside from the Dementors I had a lovely time and so would definitely come next time, assuming Mum let me out of the house. Which after today, I reflected, could end up being my biggest problem.


	13. And classes begin again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back to school and the start of NEWT-level studies. Everyone gets their timetables for NEWTs, classes start up again, and Laura puts her broom back together. Oh, and amortentia …

The first of September arrived in what felt like no time at all, and along with a few hundred other students I was bundled onto the Hogwarts Express for the journey north, for the first time without Beatrice. It was strangely liberating and I relished the unfamiliar but welcome prospect of getting through the whole train ride without once hearing a story about someone she had hexed or a skirmish she had been involved in.

After we arrived back at school, we all gathered in the Great Hall for the welcome feast and watched as the Sorting Hat sang its song and another forty or so first-years (were we ever really that small?) were Sorted into their Houses. Once they were all seated Professor Dumbledore, true to form, made one of the shortest speeches known to man or beast.

“There is a time and a place for speeches,” he said from his position in the middle of the Head Table, “and I am sure I will be advised if any of you find it. So, in the absence of anything more formal, dig in!”

The tables immediately started heaving beneath the weight of food that appeared on it. As always the variety was immense and the quality excellent, and we sat in relative quiet as we all ate as much as we could, while still leaving room for pudding, of course, which appeared in due course and was absolutely delicious.

Once everyone in the Hall had eaten so much they felt like they were going to explode, Dumbledore stood up again. “It is time,” he said to the suddenly almost silent room, “for the start of term notices. Firstly, Mr Filch has asked me to remind you that the use of magic is forbidden in the corridors between classes, and advises that winged catapults and Dungbombs have been added to the list of banned items. This list I believe now totals some two hundred and sixteen items and can be found on the door of Mr Filch’s office for anyone who would like to see it.” He smiled and I could have sworn his gaze flicked to James and Sirius before he continued.

“I would also like to advise our new students, and remind some of our older students, that the forbidden forest is called that because it is in fact forbidden. I also recommend not antagonising the giant squid which lives in the black lake, which can have a rather nasty temper when provoked.

“I wish fervently I did not have to do so, but will remind you all of the dangers we are currently facing, and request that all of you abide by any security or safety-connected instructions you may receive from staff. Remember, these are for your own safety and any disobedience is at your own, I might add significant, risk. I will also remind you that students below third year, and any older students who have not had their permission slips signed, will not be allowed to visit the village of Hogsmeade on designated weekends.”

I nodded. Dad had told me in his day they didn’t need new forms to be signed every year, that one form signed at the start of third year was enough for the rest of your time at Hogwarts, but it seemed with the ever-increasing danger outside the walls of Hogwarts it was deemed appropriate that students be required to provide fresh permission slips every year.

Professor Dumbledore was continuing. “On a lighter note, Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of term, and I would like to inform first-years that for safety reasons they are not permitted to take part. Notices advising of times and dates will be posted in the common rooms in due course, and those interested in participating should give their names to their Heads of House.

“And finally, I would like to introduce our new members of staff. Firstly, Professor Penrose, who will be replacing the retired Professor Egg as our Muggle Studies professor.”

An elegant-looking wizard in rather stylish robes stood up and bowed, a wide smile on his face. The students all applauded in a dutiful if rather bored fashion, most probably figuring it was only Muggle Studies so who cared what he was like? (Okay, I admit, that’s probably not fair, but Muggle Studies was often seen as a soft option and the failure rate was less than two percent, so the coursework could hardly have been described as taxing.)

Dumbledore cleared his throat and the applause died a natural death. “And can we please give a big Hogwarts welcome to Professor Viridian, who will be teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts.” Apparently Professor Dingle had also succumbed to the Defence teachers’ curse and only lasted one year. The man who was replacing him, two seats down from Dumbledore, stood up and beamed at the student body. What had been the beginnings of an applause died and quickly turned to suppressed giggles.

I know it’s not polite to judge someone solely on their appearance, but there’s times it’s hard not to. “Gosh,” I heard someone say from further down the table. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone quite so inbred!”

It was true. Professor Viridian looked like potentially the dumbest person I had ever seen, with all the clichés of buck teeth, slightly crossed eyes, a receding hairline and a rather bulbous, prominent nose. I wasn’t willing to pass total judgement on the man until we’d had a class with him, but his looks were certainly against him.

“He looks like he couldn’t find Hogsmeade from the front gates,” I said to Mary, who was sitting opposite.

She nodded. “Definitely a butterbeer or two shor’ o’ a six-pack.”

“We’ll have to hope he’s better than he looks,” I muttered. “Defence is too important a subject to have someone completely incompetent in charge. And I would have thought Dumbledore would have realised that, particularly with the way things are at the moment.”

Martha giggled next to me. “To be honest, Laura, I don’t think it’s physically possible to be as incompetent as that man looks. We’ll just have to trust that Dumbledore knows what he’s doing. Wonder what happened to Dingle?”

I shrugged and flashed a relieved smile at her, but it appeared we were the only ones who had managed to think past the new professor’s appearance. The boys, for example, were sitting nearby – probably so James could be close to Lily – and were laughing appreciatively at the various disparaging comments we could hear from around the hall. Sirius in particular was rather loud in his laughter, which sounded unnervingly like a dog barking. Not entirely sure I’d noticed that before, which for a five year acquaintance was remarkably unobservant of me, I made a mental note to ask Mary about it later.

“Told you, Prongs,” Sirius said with a grin once he had stopped barking, “living proof of why you shouldn’t marry a pure-blood. Too much inbreeding stunts your development.”

James grinned. “No fear of that,” he said, looking sideways at Lily, who was sitting on the other side of Mary. She of course was Muggle-born, so whether he was confronted with a thousand Professor Viridians or not, assuming his affection for her stayed at its current levels there was very little chance James would marry a pure-blood if he had anything at all to do with it.

****

At breakfast the next morning Professor McGonagall went down the Gryffindor table handing out timetables. She left the sixth-years till last as we had to decide what NEWT subjects we would be taking, depending on how we went in our OWLs.

She spent very little time speaking with James and Sirius, and I suspected they had scored Os for all their subjects and could therefore take what they liked. She talked to Remus for a slightly longer time before nodding in a satisfied way and handing him a timetable, and then even longer with Peter, who was never up to the other three’s standard in terms of brains. Eventually she moved down the table to where we were.

“Miss Evans, your results were excellent,” she said, giving Lily a rare smile. “You may proceed with your chosen subjects.” And she tapped a blank piece of parchment with her wand and handed it to Lily, who beamed at her and consulted the paper eagerly.

She stopped by Martha and Charlotte next. Martha hadn’t achieved a high enough mark to continue with Ancient Runes, but ageed to take Arithmancy instead; Charlotte was advised she could stay in Potions despite not receiving the requisite E, most probably due to her Slug Club membership. Mary, too, had timetable issues – her marks had been lower than she’d hoped due to the incident with Mulciber just before the exams, and hadn’t the marks to keep going in Transfiguration or Potions. She had, however, received an unexpected O in Astronomy, so she opted to do that instead. All three girls looked keenly at their timetables while Professor McGonagall turned to me.

“Miss Cauldwell, you had excellent results. If I might say so, you picked up admirably towards the end of last year. You may continue in all subjects.” I grinned – I had elected to drop Care of Magical Creatures, History of Magic and Astronomy (which I’d failed anyway), but that meant everything else I wanted to do, I could. I took my timetable from her impatiently.

I looked at my timetable enthusiastically. “Great, two free periods first up. Nothing at all till after break – not bad for a Monday.”

Mary checked hers. “I’ve go’ a break in firs’ period bu’ then Muggle Studies in secon’ period,” she said. “Then nothing till after lunch, when I’ve go’ double Charms.”

“Lucky you,” said Lily from her spot two places down. “I’ve got Arithmancy first up – just the thing to get my brain working on a Monday morning.”

Martha groaned. “And I’ve got Arithmancy and then Care of Magical Creatures, then a break, then double Charms after lunch. Pretty full day, really.”

I was scanning my timetable. “Not as bad as Thursdays, though,” I said. “I’ve got double Transfiguration, then Charms, then double Herbology. Talk about full-on!”

Lily shot a look at her timetable. “Goodness, so do I,” she said despairingly. “Good thing I’ve got almost all of Fridays off, then – I’ll need that to recover!”

Charlotte shook her head sympathetically. “That’s pretty bad. The worst I’ve got is today, which is Arithmancy, then a break, then Potions and double Charms, and Tuesdays where I’ve got Transfiguration, then a break, then Divination and double Defence. So I don’t have any full days at all.” She grinned, pushing her glasses up her nose. “Nice to be able to break it up a bit.”

I looked at Mary and smiled. “Library or gossip session?”

“Well,” she said, pretending to think about it, “considerin’ we don’ have anything t’ study, there’s no’ much poin’ in goin’ t’ the library, is there?” She winked at me.

“My thoughts exactly. Right then, common room or outside?”

She looked up at the ceiling of the Great Hall, which was bewitched to look like the sky outside. It was a beautiful clear blue with barely a cloud to be seen. “I think ootside looks lik’ a fair option.”

Lily threw us a filthy look. “That’s not fair, you two sitting outside in the sunshine while we’re stuck in Arithmancy.”

I grinned at her. “Nothing stopping you from joining me once you’re done, is there? I’ve got nothing till Potions after break.”

She nodded. “Right. Okay, Charlotte and I will be down as soon as the bell goes, what do you say, Charlotte?”

Charlotte grinned as well. “Sounds good to me. Oh, don’t worry, Martha,” she went on, looking at the blonde who was probably about to protest she couldn’t come too, “we’ll wave at you as you go past with Kettleburn.”

“We can even blow kisses if you like,” I suggested, winking at her.

Martha scowled. “I guess I can’t really complain, I’ll be outside as well anyway. Right, then, I’m off to Arithmancy. Lily, Charlotte?” And the three of them got up to make their way to their first class of the year.

****

The first Potions lesson of the new term was an interesting affair. Six Gryffindors had scored the required E to study it at NEWT level, and we made our way down to the dungeons along with five Ravenclaws, two Hufflepuffs and three Slytherins, Gerry Stebbins looking rather disappointed once he realised Mary wasn’t there. I knew Charlotte had only just scraped into the class, but she was plainly thrilled to notice Remus had also made the grade.

Severus Snape made a beeline for Lily while we were waiting for Slughorn to open the doors, and tried to pull her away from the rest of the students. She stared up at him with disdain and then looked away.

“I told you, I’m not interested,” she said, her tone acidic.

“But please,” he begged, “I’m sorry. It was the wrong thing to say.” From what I could see of his face through his curtain of greasy black hair he looked desperate, which I must say didn’t suit him at all.

“Save it,” she said sharply. “I’ve made my choice.”

James had made his way over to them, his wand out. “Is he bothering you, Evans?” he asked lightly, though we could see the anger in his face as he looked down at them, standing so as to the most of every inch of height (both of them!) he had over Severus.

“Thanks, Potter, but I’m fine,” she said, making a point of looking James full in the face and smiling at him, knowing how Snape would take it. If she’d had the guts and knew there would be no repercussions, it wouldn’t have surprised me if she’d snogged him, just to see Severus’ reaction. “ _Snivellus_ was just leaving.” And she pushed past Snape without looking at him and made her way over to where Charlotte and I were standing. James looked mildly surprised and a little pleased as he walked back to Sirius and Remus.

Severus was watching her with a horrified look on his face. He looked from her to James, then back again, and we could see the conclusions forming in his mind as he started getting more and more worked up. Fury and resentment were leaching out of him in floods and I was expecting him to get his wand out at any moment.

The tension was broken by Professor Slughorn opening the door of the Potions classroom. “NEWT students, welcome,” he said, grinning benignly at us as we made our way inside and seemingly oblivious to the increasingly angry Snape.

There were four tables inside each set up for four students, and we tried to figure out the best seating arrangements. Eventually Charlotte settled at a table with James, Sirius and Remus, and Lily and I set ourselves up in front of them with Leda Minchum and Al Jorkins from Hufflepuff. James looked distinctly unimpressed by the way it had turned out, as did Leda as a member of the Sirius Black fan club, but there wasn’t much either of them could do about it without being obvious. I did feel sorry for Hector Bole, though, who was the Ravenclaw who had to share with the Slytherins, particularly as Snape was still looking daggers at James and had pulled out his wand.

Slughorn had started talking without me really noticing, and was indicating four shimmering cauldrons in front of his desk. It seemed he was trying to get us to name each potion based on its appearance and scent, and he was indicating the one closest to our table.

Lily had her hand up immediately. I noticed Hector did as well, but he wasn’t one of Slughorn’s favourites so he was ignored as the Professor looked at our table expectantly. “That’s amortentia,” Lily said, going a little pink.

Slughorn beamed at her. “And what is amortentia, Lily?”

“It’s a love potion,” she recited, sounding as usual as though she had swallowed the textbook. “The most powerful love potion in the world. It smells different to everyone, depending on what they find most attractive.”

I leaned over and smelled the potion, which did indeed have the most seductive aroma coming from it – a combination of a bacon and onion fry-up, cinnamon, something rather musky and attractive I couldn’t identify, freshly ground coffee and – hang on, was that wet dog I could smell? That didn’t seem right at all. Baffled, I shook my head and sank back onto my stool.

“Right you are, Lily,” Slughorn beamed again. “Ten points to Gryffindor. And while it is a love potion, let me remind you it cannot actually create love, just an infatuation. I believe this to be of the most dangerous potions it is possible to make.” He looked at us and focused on some of the Ravenclaw boys, who were sniggering into their hands. “I am quite serious, Mr Stanley,” he went on, getting Gerry Stebbins’ name wrong – he obviously wasn’t a member of the Slug Club. “Never underestimate the power of obsessive love.” And it seemed to me that he glanced at Severus Snape before he went to stand by the next cauldron, which had a perfectly clear liquid bubbling away inside.

“And who can identify this?” he asked, looking around. Lily’s hand again shot into the air, as did Severus’ and James’. All members of the Slug Club – he’d have trouble showing favouritism with this lot to choose from.

“James?” Snape looked furious and was still fingering his wand.

“That’s veritaserum, Professor,” said James. “Liquid truth. If you feed it to someone they are forced to tell the truth.” His explanation wasn’t quite as eloquent as Lily’s would have been, but we all got the message clearly anyway.

“Very good, James,” said Slughorn. “Another ten points to Gryffindor.” He moved to the next cauldron, the contents of which were a little syrupy and had a greenish tinge. It looked like something that no one in their right mind would ever knowingly drink.

Again, Lily’s and Snape’s hands were in the air, and this time Slughorn chose Severus.

“Draught of the Living Death,” said Severus. He was still casting malevolent sideways glances at James and I wondered if he was planning to slip some of the potion into his morning coffee or something. “It causes the drinker to fall into a deep sleep, so deep it resembles death, and from which it is almost impossible to awaken.” Actually, if that’s what it did, he was almost certainly planning to feed some to James somehow. If I was him I would definitely have been on my guard.

“Excellent, Severus,” beamed Slughorn again. “Ten points to Slytherin. And the final potion?” he continued, indicating the fourth and last mixture, which was dark and gluggy and had a most unpleasant smell coming from it.

Again, Lily and Severus had their hands in the air, but this time so did Sirius, and to keep things fair Slughorn turned to him. “Sirius?”

“That’s polyjuice potion,” he said, looking at the cauldron appreciatively. “When you mix it with a part of someone, say a hair or a fingernail, if you drink it you’ll turn into that person for an hour.” Now I understood why he looked interested in that potion – it would be invaluable for one of their pranks.

“Thank you, Sirius, that is exactly right,” said Slughorn. “Take another ten points. I have shown you these potions,” he went on, addressing the class as a whole, “as they are the sort of potions that come up in NEWT classes. You will be required to prepare potions of this sort of complexity for your exams.” We all looked around worriedly, and I wondered if I was quite cut out for this class. I mean, Draught of the Living Death? There was no way known I could make that.

As it turned out, that was exactly our task that day. Professor Slughorn didn’t expect anyone to actually complete the potion, but he was plainly testing us to see how we would go with something that complicated. Fortunately I was sharing a table with Lily, Potions expert, and she kept an eye on me as I cut up the ingredients and tried to put them in the cauldron in the correct order. The end result was my attempt wasn’t any worse than many of those I saw being submitted at the end of the lesson, and I started feeling rather more confident about the class.

As everyone went up to Slughorn’s desk to hand in their potion samples, I noticed every single one of them stop at the amortentia and inhale deeply. I wondered idly what each of them was smelling, and whether anyone else had discovered an aroma similar to the one I had. I mean, really, wet dog? I had another long sniff myself to make sure I hadn’t been imagining things but, sure enough, there it was again. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to share that little titbit with anyone, not entirely certain what it said about me.

Once the class was over and we filed into the Great Hall for lunch, Charlotte came and sat down next to me. “How did you go?”

“Passable,” I said, “but it would have been much worse if Lily wasn’t helping me out.”

“Tell me about it,” she said. “You know how I only just scraped into NEWT Potions. Well, it seems Remus had a similar mark to mine and only just made it as well, so between the two of us we’re not particularly confident, especially with something as complicated as we did this morning. Thank goodness James and Sirius were at our table, let me tell you.”

“I did feel sorry for Hector,” I said. “Having to sit with Snape, Pritchard and Gibbon. That can’t have been pleasant.”

“Do you think he got Slytherin germs?” she asked with a grin. “Though with Gibbon on that table, I’m surprised there was room for Hector.” Gibbon, the Slytherin prefect, was a great lump of a boy. Really, he had the most appropriate name out of anyone I’d ever come across.

Other classes were generally just as amusing, and before the week was out we discovered there were two NEWT-level Defence Against the Dark Arts classes. This was unusual, but due to the current climate interest was at unprecedented levels, and a large number of students had worked very hard to ensure they got the E required to study it at a higher level, doubtless hoping to learn enough to survive once school was over. Everyone in Gryffindor had the grades to continue studying it, rather unusually I must admit, and we found our class shared with half a dozen Hufflepuffs. Apparently Ravenclaw and Slytherin, both of which had similar levels of interest, were taking the same course at a different time.

All through the week Snape was still trying to talk to Lily, attempting to win her forgiveness for the Mudblood comment during OWLs. She was getting more and more aggravated with him and on one occasion even resorted to using a Revulsion Jinx to get him away from her, though even that didn’t seem to hammer home the message she no longer wanted to have anything to do with him. While I had to give him credit for his persistence, I couldn’t help but feel that if he actually listened to her and did what she asked once in a while, he might actually stand a chance of being forgiven.

****

Once the weekend rolled around I finally had time for the important things that needed doing at the start of the school year. A Caerphilly Catapults poster found its way onto the wall next to my bed via a Fixing Charm, as did some family photos, a Welsh rugby flag and a Gryffindor banner. The books I’d brought from home were put into my bedside cabinet, and I found my Nimbus One Thousand and One, in parts, at the bottom of my trunk waiting to be reassembled.

Broom assembly had always been something I enjoyed, ever since my father taught me the basics as a child. I was proud of this ability as I knew not everyone had it, and sometimes even put additional charms on my broom to make it do more things. Seeing my interest in this activity, Dad had also taught me things like Gobstones and Wizard Chess and even Muggle poker. He and I had journeyed around the countryside on our rebuilt brooms, looking in holes in the ground for Nifflers or on trees for Bowtruckles, or tending the garden where we kept a lot of magical plants that looked enough like Muggle ones to not be commented on.

Charlotte came into the dorm when I was halfway through. “I keep forgetting you know how to do that,” she said with admiration in her voice. “I should tell Clarrie, he’d be up here in no time asking you to do his.” Charlotte’s little brother was a keen flier and reportedly missed out on a spot on the House Quidditch team the previous year by the narrowest of margins.

“If he could get up the stairs,” I pointed out.

“Well, yes, but you know what I mean.”

I smiled and got back to work. The twigs were all perfectly shaped and didn’t need trimming or adjusting (though half a dozen or so had broken in the trunk and needed to be binned), so I took my time and reattached them to the handle individually with delicate care.

“I really don’t know how you’ve got the patience to do that,” Charlotte said as she watched me. “I’d get sick of it halfway through and give up.”

“Not with an eighty-Galleon broom, you wouldn’t,” I said. My Nimbus One Thousand and One was a very good broom – not top of the line, but close. As my parents would never have to buy me a car, and I was more likely to take care of things than, say, Bea, Dad didn’t mind shelling out a bit more for a good quality broom.

“No, I guess not. But then again I don’t think I’d be game to take strip down eighty-Galleon broom in the first place.”

“It’s not that hard,” I said. “Just try to make sure they don’t get damaged in transit, and then do a decent Cushioning Charm and Flying Charm at the end when you’re done, and that’s about it.”

She didn’t look convinced. “There are still some tricks, though, aren’t there? I think I’ll just stick with my Shooting Star. It hasn’t failed me yet.”

I smiled and tested the broom, putting it on the bed and doing the simple “Up” command they taught us in first year. “If you’re happy with the Shooting Star, then keep the Shooting Star,” I said. “I’m just going out to the Quidditch pitch to test this one out. You know, make sure I got all my ‘tricks’ right when I did them.”

Fortunately it was too early in the year for any Quidditch training to be going on, though there were a few stragglers about who were obviously trying to get some practice in before team trials were held the following week. I had no intention of trying out for the Gryffindor team but this was the perfect place to test my broom and I took off with gusto, performing all sorts of little moves to ensure my charms were holding as they should be, and the broom was handling as expected.

It was as always exhilarating, streaming above the school grounds at a hundred miles an hour, which I was perfectly comfortable with so long as both hands stayed on the broom handle. Part of me wished my balance was a bit better one-handed, as I would have enjoyed playing Quidditch and getting out for training every week. However, I had fallen off my broom enough times over the years to know my own limits, and after zooming around for about half an hour I headed back down, happy with my handiwork. My broom, the name ‘Cauldwell’ carved into the timber and an Anti-Theft Jinx placed on it, I left in the broom-shed, ready for whenever my next excursion would be.

 


	14. Patronuses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A confession from Mary, Patronus lessons, Elvira, and Sirius turns seventeen. Which of course all of Gryffindor House has to know about.

When I got back to Gryffindor Tower I discovered Mary had been looking for me. “Where were ye?”

“Quidditch pitch,” I said. “I put my broom back together so I had to test it out to make sure I’d done it properly.” We headed back downstairs towards the library, where she wanted to check out a couple of books for Muggle Studies.

“Anyone else there?” she asked in that careless kind of way that you just know they’re dying for the answer. I looked at her sharply.

“A few people practicing for House try-outs,” I said. “No one interesting though.”

She was quiet for a bit. “Jus’ new ones, though, no one who’s already on the team? No, they wouldn’ be there,” she went on, answering her own question, “they prob’ly don’ need t’ practice, do they?”

Mary was obviously interested in someone on one of the Quidditch teams. Hopefully the Gryffindor one, I thought, not wanting her to start supporting another House. I decided to test her.

“Did you want to go and watch try-outs next week?”

She started. “When are they?”

I thought about it – I’d heard the announcement and seen the notice on the common room board, but I hadn’t paid much attention. “Thursday after school, I think. For Gryffindor, that is.”

She nodded. “Thursday’s all right, an’ all. If ye don’ mind?”

I laughed. “Who is it you’re so keen on seeing?”

Immediately she clammed up. “No one.”

I thought my way through the previous year’s team. Keeper – Marcus Ogden, now seventh-year. Possible, but I would probably have heard something about him from her before this. Seeker – spot left vacant by Amelia Towler. Not that, obviously. Beaters – Fin Quigley and Barnaby Marchbanks, both fifth-years. Unlikely. Chasers – Anna Vector, seventh-year. I hoped not. Spot left vacant by Eileen Sloper. See seeker description. James Potter. OH.

“Mary!” I exclaimed. “You’ve got a crush on James Potter!”

She went beet red and tried to hide her face in her hair. “No I don’!”

“Then why are you blushing?”

Her face fell. “Okay, aye, I do. Jus’ a wee one. I think it started when he looked after me wi’ tha’ whole thing wi’ Mulciber. Ye know he came t’ visit me a few times? T’ mak’ sure I was gettin’ better an’ all. An’ I know, it’s stupid,” she went on quietly. “It’s no’ like I’ve go’ a chance agains’ Lily, do I?” She looked thoroughly miserable.

“I’m sorry, Mary,” I said, giving her a hug. “But I don’t think Guinevere herself would have a chance against Lily.”

She laughed despite herself. “Ye’re prob’ly right there. Oh well. Guess I jus’ have t’ live wi’ it then.”

“Come on, now, it’s not all bad,” I said, trying to reassure her. “There’s always Gerry Stebbins, he’s – uh – inoffensive,” – that was the best thing about him I could come up with – “and he’s certainly rather keen on you.”

“No’ James, though, is he?” she said, shuddering.

“Well, no, but you’ll be hard pressed to find someone who’s a patch on James Potter. And Gerry’s not nearly so arrogant, that has to be a plus.” There, I thought, something else he had going for him. If I thought about it enough I might even come up with a tidy few things about him that were halfway decent, though if he really did still read Martin Miggs comics then he was probably beyond saving.

“Aye, bu’ I’d be settling,” she mumbled. “I don’ wan’ t’ have t’ settle fer someone, and definitely no’ him. I wan’ t’ be swept off my fee’ by a knight in shining armour – or, failing tha’, a Chaser on the Quidditch team …” She smiled grimly, then looked sharply at me. “But ye have t’ promise t’ never mention this t’ _anyone_. Can ye imagine if it go’ oot?”

I gave her another hug. “Don’t worry, I won’t breathe a word. You have my promise. I know exactly what you mean.”

As the school term progressed, I found my relief that it wasn’t nearly as difficult as I’d anticipated. Then again, I had helped things along a little in that regard. For example, I’d discovered that sitting with Lily during Potions was definitely one of my smarter moves. She had a proper understanding of the way potion ingredients worked together and was able to tell you the effects of different combinations, even when they were things we hadn’t put together before. This was exemplified when we tried to make Everlasting Elixirs in mid-October, which Slughorn said were some of the trickiest potions to be attempted in sixth year.

“You can’t put the ginger roots in before the Romanian Longhorn powder,” she said sharply, putting her hand over mine to stop me adding the wrong ingredient. “Romanian Longhorn powder is a base ingredient and needs to settle before you add anything auxiliary like ginger, otherwise it’ll just disintegrate and won’t have any effects.” While she sometimes sounded like she had swallowed the textbook, I appreciated her efforts to help me pass.

I looked at her admiringly. “What don’t you know, Lily Evans?”

She blushed. “Sorry, I just didn’t want you to get it wrong,” she said, not being the world’s best at taking compliments. “You need to separate the base ingredients from the auxiliaries and make sure you don’t muck up the order.”

“And I appreciate it,” I said. “Now, what category do the Jobberknoll feathers fit into, base or auxiliary?”

She grinned. “Base. Animal parts are always base. Even Flobberworm – though I’d understand it if you didn’t count them as animals.”

Through Lily’s careful coaching I managed to do a decent job on my first attempt at an Everlasting Elixir, and it occurred to me I might even have the hang of Potions by the end of the year if I stayed near her during class.

Defence Against the Dark Arts was similarly promising. Despite the unfortunate appearance of the teacher and the derogatory remarks he had inspired at the welcome feast, the lessons were surprisingly good. Professor Viridian knew a lot more than his looks made out, especially about curses and counter-curses, and by the time we’d been back at school a month and a half I felt like I’d already learned more than I did all through the previous year.

My opinion wasn’t shared by the whole class, however. James and Sirius were openly derisive about Viridian and often made jokes at his expense, and even people like Caradoc Dearborn, the Hufflepuff prefect and a perfectly nice person most of the time, were less than enthusiastic about his lessons.

I paid them little attention. I was feeling much more confident about sixth year than I had about fifth year, and each class was like a new challenge. To be frank, the whole feel of school was different. I felt free, as though a weight had been lifted from me and something had unlocked in my brain that unchained my thoughts in the process. The upshot of this was I became more conspicuous, putting my hand up in class to answer questions, being more vocal about what I thought, and in general feeling more confident in my own abilities.

It was a few weeks before I realised why this was so, and I had Martha to thank for it. “You don’t miss her, do you?” she asked at the Hallowe’en feast, helping herself to some pumpkin pasties.

“Who?” I asked, baffled.

“That sister of yours,” she said. “You don’t have to keep an eye on the Ravenclaw table to make sure she’s behaving herself anymore.”

I thought about that. It was true – my new sense of self-assurance most likely had an awful lot to do with Bea’s absence. I had no responsibility for her anymore, no more putting out her fires (sometimes literally) or making excuses for her strange behaviour. No more judgemental looks from other students after a Bea-inspired fracas, all muttering that if I’m around it’s only a matter of time before something similar happens again. No more having to defend my own reputation because of something she’d done.

Well, when I looked at it like that, no wonder I felt free.

****

Leaving the library a few days later, I looked up from my books to see Elvira Vablatsky at the other end of a long corridor. Elvira was someone I really had to be in the right mood to deal with and, not being in that kind of mood, I darted down a nearby passage to make sure she didn’t see me. Fortunately it worked, but only after I’d gone far enough to round a corner or two so I was well out of sight. Unfortunately I had no idea where the corridor led, and after a couple of twists, dodging the Fat Friar as he glided along and even going down a flight of stairs I’d not seen in all the time I’d been at Hogwarts, I was definitely lost.

Starting to get a little worried, I heard voices up ahead. Good, I thought, someone I could ask for directions. It’s a bit embarrassing having to ask where you are when you’ve been living in a building for the best part of five and a half years, but there’s times it’s best to swallow your pride and just do it. Unfortunately, the closer I got, the more familiar one of the voices sounded, and if it was who I thought it was I was very reluctant to ask _him_ for help. He’d humiliated me enough already for one lifetime.

Before I reached them I thought I’d better take a peek to see if my guess was right. Peering around a corner of the passageway, I saw two figures standing quietly in the shadows by an old tapestry, and they looked very much like they didn’t want to be disturbed. One of them was saying, “I wrote to Mum, but nothing doing.”

“Thought as much,” said the other one, the one who sounded familiar. That is, he sounded like Sirius, though he was speaking too low for me to be completely sure. And to think I’d been avoiding Elvira so I wouldn’t have to talk about him – the irony didn’t escape me.

“It’s okay,” said the first one reassuringly. “Did you get my parcel? I was running late at breakfast …”

“Yes, thanks,” said the other, laughing. It _was_ Sirius – no one else had that bark-like laugh I had noticed earlier in the term. “I did appreciate that. I just thought …”

“I know,” said the first person. “I just wanted you to know that I did try.”

I peered around the corner again, wondering where exactly we were and when they might disappear so I could go on. The two were embracing awkwardly, then, without warning, the shorter and slighter of the two broke away and headed off down the corridor, away from me. I froze. The other person – Sirius – was bound to come in my direction. I racked my brain trying to think of an excuse for being there, listening to what was obviously a private conversation. “Lost,” despite being the truth, didn’t really seem to cut it.

I was let off, however, lucky this one time – Sirius turned around and slipped behind the tapestry, leaving no sign he’d ever been there. I breathed out: there must have been a secret passage behind there. Idly I wondered where it went but, lost as I was, I wasn’t going to risk making matters even worse. Instead, undeniably curious, I made a mental note to tell Mary and check it out ourselves one day.

To be frank, someone like Sirius knowing where Hogwarts’ secret passages were could not have been less surprising. He needed all the nous he could get to successfully avoid the fan club which, though it had diminished the previous Christmas due to his disinheritance, had swelled rather significantly once term began as it became obvious he’d shot up a bit over the summer. Now at least two inches taller than James, he had grown into his already elegant and aristocratic looks even more, so a few who had dropped out were re-joining and there were even some new faces in the mix. They had to be completely exasperating so I felt it would be cruel to deny him the small pleasure of being able to disappear whenever possible.

Anyway, once the coast was clear I continued down my mystery corridor, following its twists and turns and eventually finding myself outside the toilets no one ever used, the ones with a ghost living in one of the cubicles. Her name was Myrtle and she was rather contrary and depressing, so had been nicknamed ‘Moaning Myrtle’. Which wasn’t very nice, I admit, but it was accurate. In any case, seeing Myrtle’s bathroom meant I now knew where I was, and I was able to find the staircase that would lead me to the Great Hall in time for lunch without further difficulty.

****

That night we were treated to the sight of James Potter standing on a table in the middle of the common room, its spindly legs creaking ominously under his weight. After all, three and a bit years on the House Quidditch team meant he wasn’t exactly a pixie. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he boomed, failing to miss Peter snorting into his Firewhisky, probably at the term ‘gentlemen’. “Ladies and gentlemen,” James repeated, looking furiously at Peter, “you are now looking at the first Gryffindor sixth-year to officially come of age!” He turned around dramatically to reveal Sirius Black who bowed extravagantly, dressed ostentatiously in a Muggle tuxedo and beaming at the crowd. To be wearing that, I guessed, he’d probably lost a bet again.

“Rubbish,” Charlotte said calmly from our table, where we had all turned to watch. “I turned seventeen six weeks ago.”

Sirius’ face dropped as he turned towards us. “Can’t I be the first at anything?” he asked plaintively. “Aside from schoolwork, of course,” he added, grinning. “Oh, and getting girls …” He trailed off, looking sickeningly pleased with himself.

Peter piped up. “You said you didn’t want the girls!” He looked almost accusingly at his friend.

Sirius looked confused, then his expression cleared. “Not _those_ girls,” he said, and we knew he was referring to the fan club. “But normal ones, yes.” He cast an appraising eye around the common room at the gathered students, his eyes lingering on a few different girls who were watching him, and grinned triumphantly.

“You can be the first of us to seventeen, mate,” said James, who was now back on the floor, leaving the limelight to his tuxedo-clad friend. “Just ’cause I’m being generous, mind.”

Peter scoffed, his uncharacteristic boldness probably due to the Firewhisky he’d been drinking. “Come on, Prongs, like you can talk. Even Moony and I will get there before you do!”

“True,” Remus said. “He has you there.”

Lily lifted an eyebrow. “You’ve got to love the irony,” she said quietly to Charlotte.

James, however, had heard her and was plainly bursting for an insight into the way Lily Evans’ mind worked. “What irony?”

“The leader of the pack, and he’s the youngest of them all,” she said, trying unsuccessfully to suppress a smile. Everyone started laughing.

“Yeah, but I’m not the youngest in the year,” he countered. Lily raised the other eyebrow. “Surely not?” he added, now looking worried. “When’s your birthday, Trimble?”

“September, you dolt, remember, I just said,” Charlotte said acidly.

“Oh yeah.” He had the grace to look somewhat abashed. “Hornby?”

“Week before Christmas,” said Martha.

“Oh.” He did look worried now. “Cauldwell?”

“March,” I said.

His face lit up. “When in March?”

“The sixth.”

His face fell again. “Damn! I’m the twenty-seventh.”

Remus was looking at me curiously. “You’re the sixth of March?” I nodded. “I’m the tenth!” he grinned.

“Well there you are, then,” I said, smiling. “Almost twins!”

James came over to physically stand between us, breaking off the conversation. “Only one left,” he said, looking at Mary.

“An’ ye’re in luck,” Mary said calmly, though she was probably bursting inside – James hardly ever spoke to her. “My birthday’s no’ till June.”

James grinned maniacally and began high-fiving his friends, chanting, “I’m not the youngest, I’m not the youngest.” He hadn’t asked Lily when her birthday was – late January, for the record – but I suspected he already knew it: he seemed to know just about everything else about her.

Sirius stopped him mid-chant. “You finished, Prongs? ’Cause it’s my birthday, now, remember?”

“Oh yeah,” James said sheepishly. “Sorry. I did hear something about that. And I’m sure I heard a rumour of a party of some sort, too …” His voice picked up significantly as he looked around the room. “This Saturday night, folks! In here, eight o’clock. There’s no excuse not to come!”

****

Meanwhile, lessons were going on much as they always did, and in between them we had to deal with Peeves, Dione, Elvira and various Slytherins, all of whom made life difficult in their own little ways. This was exemplified one Tuesday as I reached Viridian’s classroom for double Defence Against the Dark Arts, along with the rest of the class who like me had just come from lunch in the Great Hall, when I was cleaned up by Severus Snape, who had come in from another corridor without watching and barrelled into me.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he spat through his curtain of greasy black hair, pulling his robes tighter around him as he saw James and Sirius eyeing him slyly.

“I’m sorry, Snivellus,” I said coldly, having regained my balance. “I didn’t realise that _you_ not looking where you were going was suddenly _my_ fault.”

He started to reach for his wand but obviously thought better of it, with pretty much half of sixth-year Defence Against the Dark Arts watching. Scowling, he slipped off down a nearby passageway.

Remus, standing opposite, grinned at me. “You know, Laura, you’ve really come out of your shell this year.”

“Probably,” I shrugged. “There’s a theory it may have coincided with my sister leaving.”

He was quiet for a spell, apparently thinking. “I hadn’t thought of that,” he said eventually. “Was she really that much of an influence?”

I was looking at my robes where Snape had hit me, searching for any grease marks I might have to clean off, and his question took me by surprise.

“There were times it felt like it,” I said, lifting my head. “Can you see any stains on here?” Okay, Remus probably wasn’t the person to ask a question like that, but he was the easiest as we were already talking. In any case it didn’t matter because I quickly answered my own question. “Ah, there’s one. _Tergeo_.” I siphoned off the mark with my wand.

“He really needs t’ do summit aboot tha’ hair,” Mary said.

“Definitely,” I said. “I feel like hexing him so the grease glows in the dark, that way you’d always be able to find where it’s got to.”

Apparently this was a rather humorous idea as half the class started laughing, only to be disrupted by Professor Viridian opening the classroom door to let us in. Settling down with remarkable speed, we all wandered in and found our usual desks.

Viridian as usual silenced the class with no apparent effort, and announced he was going to teach us the Patronus Charm. While you might think this was something that was more likely to come up in Charms, it was in fact the spell used to repel Dementors, and so definitely came under the definition of Defence against the Dark Arts. In fact, Viridian explained while this was usually taught in seventh year if at all, the recent spate of Dementor attacks – including the one we had witnessed in Diagon Alley back in August – meant he and Dumbledore had agreed to teach it to us now.

The charm itself was easy enough to remember – _Expecto patronum_ – but it wasn’t just a matter of saying the words and flicking your wand with this one, apparently. The trick was you had to think of something that made you happy. The happier the thought, the stronger the effect of the spell, known as a Patronus, would be.

A Patronus was a silvery being, generally an animal, that would erupt from your wand and, if strong enough, charge down and scatter the Dementor it was aimed at, as we had seen in Diagon Alley the previous summer. Which was all well and good in theory, but it was much harder to do than it sounded. Apparently, none of my thoughts or memories were happy enough.

By halfway through the double period all most of the class had been able to achieve was a thin silvery wisp of smoke from the ends of their wands. Most of the class, that is. I probably don’t need to say that James and Sirius had well and truly mastered the charm by that point and were treating us to their Patronuses, which if they stayed still for long enough looked like a deer of some sort and a large dog, doing laps of the classroom. That galvanised the rest of us into trying harder and, half an hour later, I was thrilled to see something that almost had a definite shape appearing from my wand tip.

“Mary, did you see that?” I asked excitedly. “That was definitely something!”

“Aye,” she said. “Almos’ had a shape an’ all.”

I cast the charm again eagerly, trying my hardest to think of the happiest memory I could. First kiss? No, that was a bit of a dud, really (sorry Cadmus!). Beating Bea in Charms? Good memory but compromised by the jinxes she sent my way as a result. Finding out I was in Gryffindor rather than Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff? No, I was more confused by that than anything else. Getting an O for Herbology in my OWLs? Possibly, but it didn’t really feel like what I was looking for. In the end I decided on a particularly memorable stay at Mary’s in between fourth and fifth years – most probably not the type of memory the charm inventor had in mind, but my life had been uninteresting enough to not provide me with much else.

However, try as I might, I couldn’t get past the vague wispy shape I’d already achieved, and even then I couldn’t figure out what animal it was. Something medium-sized with four legs, but beyond that I wasn’t sure. Mary didn’t even get that, having to be satisfied with the silvery wisp that was the first step to a real Patronus.

“A good start, people,” Viridian said as he closed the class. “Mr Potter, Mr Black, take twenty points each – those were excellent Patronuses for a first try. The rest of you, keep practicing, and we’ll try again on Friday.”

Mary, still hung up on James, was awestruck by his ability in Defence. “Did ye see tha’?” she breathed as we headed up to Gryffindor Tower to drop our bags off before dinner. “Mastered it in half an hour. An’ such a bonny animal, too …”

I looked at her, using all my self-control not to laugh at the dreamy look on her face. Love does do silly things to us. “Which one was his? I couldn’t tell.”

“He ha’ the stag,” she said softly. “So bonny …”

I laughed despite my best intentions not to. “Mary, you’re impossible. Yes, he’s bloody good at Defence. And he can do a good Patronus. But seriously,” I went on, remembering something, “don’t get your hopes up, okay? It was a lovely stag but it went straight to Lily before it started doing laps. And I don’t want you to get hurt because of this.”

She sighed. “I know,” she said. “An ye’re right t’ stop me gettin’ too carried away. Bu’ he’s jus’ so … so …”

“So James,” I finished for her. “I know. But if nothing else, remember, Lily saw him first. And he saw Lily. I’m sorry, Mary, but some things are just meant to be.” And I gave her a quick comforting hug as we climbed the last staircase towards the tower.

****

Elvira sat next to me in Ancient Runes later that week. “Laura, I’ve got a problem,” she said as she sat down, putting her books on the desk.

“Sure,” I said. “What’s up?” Although pretty sure I knew, I thought I’d give her the opportunity to surprise me. After all, you never know your luck.

“Sirius,” she said, confirming my theory and going into broken record mode again. “You’re in Gryffindor. You know him.”

“Being in Gryffindor doesn’t mean I know him.” I’d said that before but it never seemed to sink in. She didn’t look convinced so I gave up, taking the path of least resistance. “All right, what’s he done now?”

“He still doesn’t know me from a bottle of Doxycide,” she muttered. “But that’s not the problem. The problem is HER.” She pointed rather viciously at Clio Zeller, a pretty black-haired Hufflepuff who also took Ancient Runes.

“ _Muffliato_ ,” I muttered, pointing my wand in Clio’s direction. “All right, Elvira, what’s Clio got to do with Sirius?”

“They’re going out,” she hissed, glaring across the room. “I saw them snogging in the Transfiguration corridor during break.”

I looked at Clio, somewhat surprised Elvira hadn’t hexed her then and there. “They may not be going out,” I said, I must say doing a remarkably good impersonation of someone who actually did give a toss. “It might have just been a snog. And anyway, he’s a grown man. Legally of age and everything. He’s entitled to snog her if he wants to.”

“He’s of age?” she asked, distracted. “When did that happen?”

I shrugged. “Week or two ago, I think. There was a party in the common room, but I don’t really remember when it was.”

Elvira smiled to herself, but then caught sight of Clio again and remembered why she was talking to me in the first place. “But why her?” she asked petulantly. “I’m prettier than she is! I’m smarter! What’s she got that I haven’t?”

The obvious answer was “Sirius”, but I thought it would be more tactful not to say that. And of course Clio hadn’t been throwing herself at him every week for the past two or three years, but while it very likely had something to do with his decision I decided not to mention that either – I still hadn’t forgotten Elvira’s reaction the last time I’d said something along those lines. Instead I took the diplomatic route. “I’m sure he’s got his reasons, but he’s not been very forthcoming with that sort of thing with me of late.” Or ever, for that matter. “So I’m sorry, Elvira, but I don’t really have any more idea than you do.”

“You’re in Gryffindor,” she pouted. “You can find out all sorts of things.”

“Can, but don’t,” I said. “It’s none of my business. And I hate to be the one to point it out, but it’s none of yours, either.”

Out of the corner of my eye I noticed Remus had been listening to the conversation, half a smile on his face. Oops, perhaps I should have _Muffliato_ ’d him as well. Though, thinking about it, I hadn’t said anything I regretted so it probably wasn’t too much of a disaster.

Elvira was saved from responding to my edict by Professor Babbling, who started the class. Afterwards, she hung back a little watching Clio, and Remus took the opportunity to catch up with me.

“Nice dealing with Elvira,” he said quietly, making sure the subject of our conversation wasn’t anywhere within hearing.

“Thanks,” I said. “I was right, wasn’t I? It really is none of her business.”

“It’s not, but she wants it to be. I’ve never come across anyone quite so persistent.”

“Clio will need to watch her back,” I said. “Assuming they are dating, that is. Merlin only knows what they’ll do to her for daring to go out with him.”

Remus shrugged. “I’m sure she can look after herself,” he said unconcernedly. “She knows what she’s getting into.”

“But still,” I said, thinking of Elvira. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, after all. “How’s her Patronus?”

Remus laughed. “I can’t say I know, but I’m sure it’s fine. But I don’t think Elvira is quite as dangerous as a Dementor, do you?”

I giggled a little. “I don’t know. I’d say being kissed by her would be just as dangerous as being kissed by a Dementor. But maybe I’m reading too much into it.”

He laughed again. “You know, Laura, you might just have a point.”


	15. The best form of defence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Duelling lessons, Slughorn’s Christmas party, and Laura gets in trouble while defending someone else. Which means yet another detention.

We were greeted one Friday morning in late November by the Slytherins arriving in the Great Hall with filthy looks on their faces and rather striking-looking hair, and word soon went around that they had woken up to discover several Gryffindor banners and apparently even a portrait of Godric Gryffindor himself had been affixed to the walls of their common room with Permanent Sticking Charms, and anyone who tried to remove them ended up with red and gold stripy locks.

“That would have gone down well,” I laughed to Mary as I heaped bacon and tomatoes onto my plate. “Who do you think did it?”

Mary snorted derisively. “Ye really need t’ ask?” she asked, an incredulous look on her face. “Who do ye think?”

“Yeah, okay, fair point.” Not far away from us were the boys from our year, laughing maniacally and high-fiving each other across the breakfast table. “I haven’t had my coffee yet, all right?”

She grinned. “Right, I’d forgotten tha’,” she said, her eyes flicking more than once to James. “Ye’re forgiven.”

“How could they have got in there, though?” I asked rhetorically once I’d had some coffee and my brain started functioning properly. “Not only do you need to know where their common room is, but you’d have to know the password as well.”

“I think I can answer tha’,” said Mary, looking across the room to the Slytherin table, where the students’ hair was slowly returning to normal. “Regulus Black.”

Of course. Sirius’ little brother. He was in fifth year and as unlike Sirius in character as he was like him in appearance. Probably the best way to describe him was like Sirius but less so – less handsome, less intelligent, less tall, less elegant, less popular, and definitely less common sense. Which, come to think of it, was probably saying something. Possibly Regulus had more sporting ability as he was on the Slytherin Quidditch team, but then again for all I knew Sirius was better at that too and had just chosen not to do it. I knew they still spoke to each other despite the fact Sirius had been disinherited – after all, I’d seen them talking in the corridor a couple of weeks earlier when I’d got lost trying to avoid Elvira – so Regulus had most probably let the password slip at some stage and his brother had decided to make the most of it.

Lily was glaring down the table in James’ direction. “Is that _more_ points you’ve just lost for Gryffindor, Potter?”

“Well, no,” said James, sounding like he couldn’t work out whether he should use his ‘Lily voice’ or not, though his hand still automatically went to his hair. “You see, Evans, we haven’t been punished for this one yet, so technically I haven’t lost _any_ points for Gryffindor …”

Lily rolled her eyes. “I’m sick of us being at the bottom of the House points just because you got bored,” she snapped. “Can’t you use that brain of yours for something useful for once?” And with that she stood up and stormed out of the Great Hall.

Remus let out a low whistle. “You’re moving up, Prongs.”

James, who had been watching Lily’s departure, spun around to look at him. “You reckon? She hates me!”

Remus shook his head. “I think that might be the first time she’s admitted in public that you actually have a brain. That can only be a good sign.”

James looked so hopeful it was rather endearing. “Really?”

Sirius was looking at them both shrewdly. “You know, I think Moony might have a point,” he said slowly. “You may even be in with a shot.” He smirked suddenly. “About bloody time too, I might add, this has been going on so long it’s ridiculous.”

“But don’t ask her out just yet,” warned Remus. “Give her a bit of time. You don’t want to scare her off again.”

James nodded. “And I do that pretty well, generally. I think I could write a book on it.”

Sirius grinned. “Well done, mate! You’ve worked that out! Only took, what, five and a half years?” He clapped James on the shoulder.

Remus cut him off with a look. “Lay off him, Padfoot. He’s suffered enough already.”

“Yeah, I have,” James said miserably. “And she’s just perfect. I think I’ll die if she turns me down again.”

Mary, Charlotte, Martha and I were watching the whole conversation, dumbstruck, though by this point Martha had to turn her head away to hide the fact she was struggling not to laugh. If nothing else it was astonishing the boys had said so much about the matter with us in full earshot, and I didn’t think I’d ever seen James looking quite so vulnerable. Both Mary and the James Potter fan club, if the latter were anywhere near, would have drooling fodder for weeks.

Martha had managed to calm herself down a little. “I think I have to go, girls,” she whispered as she stood up and walked out the hall, shaking slightly as she went. We quickly finished what we were eating and followed her.

She didn’t even make it as far as the marble staircase, instead ducking into a nearby classroom and dissolving into giggles. “Geez, did you _hear_ that?”

“We’ve got to tell her,” Charlotte said with a broad smile as she closed the door. “Can you imagine Lily’s face when she hears that one?”

“She’ll be horrified tha’ she even le’ slip tha’ much an’ all,” said Mary, who was doing a remarkable impersonation of someone who didn’t fancy James. I was quite proud of her. “He might even work oot she likes him a’ this rate.”

“And they were so _earnest_ about it all,” I added with a giggle. “Who knew they had that in them?”

Martha shook her head. “No, James and Remus were earnest. I don’t think Sirius has an earnest bone in his body.”

“I don’t know,” said Charlotte. “He did seem to actually consider Remus’ point about what Lils said about brains. So he might be developing earnestness.” She giggled again. “Is that even a word or did I just make it up?”

“I’m not sure, actually,” I said, “but I know what you mean.”

“Right,” said Mary, smiling broadly, which I was still rather impressed by. “Where do ye think Lily’s got t’? An’ who wants t’ tell her which bi’?”

Martha laughed. “Dibs on ‘I’ll die if she turns me down again’.”

Charlotte scowled. “Damn. I wanted that one. Okay, I’ll take ‘I could write a book on scaring her off.’” And once all parts of the conversation had been divvied up among us, we left the empty classroom and headed upstairs in search of where Lily might have ended up.

In the end we caught up with her as she came back inside – she’d been out in the courtyard in an attempt to clear her head, especially as we had Defence first up – and told her what had eventuated at the breakfast table. Lily didn’t disappoint and was an entertaining mixture of horror, amusement and discomfort, unsure how she would be able to face James in class that morning.

Fortunately for Lily, as soon as we got to the Defence classroom Professor Viridian required our full attention. Really, our unexpectedly good Defence Against the Dark Arts lessons were progressing very well. Viridian’s speciality was curses and counter-curses, so we had spent a lot of time going through various dark curses, including Unforgivables, and the best methods of repelling them. Those that could be repelled, that is – for all the claims of the Diagon Alley stall-holders, _Avada Kedavra_ still didn’t have any known defence.

Anyway, that morning he appeared convinced we had learned enough about defensive charms, hex deflections and counter-curses to have a go at duelling each other. After all, even I had managed to perfect my Patronus, which was a medium to large dog, possibly a Labrador. (Mary, to her great disappointment, still hadn’t managed to get past the wispy stage, though Viridian assured her that many adult qualified wizards couldn’t even get that much.) The desks were Banished to the walls and we were told to find a partner and a spare bit of floor and do our worst.

Mary and I automatically gravitated towards each other, our apprehension no doubt evident on our faces. “Have ye ever done this afore?” she whispered as Viridian went about matching up other students.

“Does dodging hexes from Bea count?”

Mary grinned. “Aye, it does. I think ye’re in a better startin’ place than I am.”

Tentatively we started to cast various jinxes at each other and tried to shatter the other’s Shield Charms. Within a few seconds, however, we were distracted by James and Sirius, who had partnered each other. Their wands were moving so fast they were just blurs of light, and they were dodging each other’s spells just as quickly and apparently effortlessly. It didn’t seem possible to even think the spells as fast as they were appearing, let alone cast them. I’d known they were good at Defence (their Patronuses were a case in point) and had heard they could do a decent duel, but I had never fully realised before just how extraordinarily good they really were.

“Can you even see the spells they’re casting?” I asked Mary, not bothering to keep my voice down; after all, the whole class was transfixed.

“No,” she said. “An’ have ye ever seen anyone dodge so well? They’re even better than ye are, Laura!”

I nodded – there was no way I was anywhere near the standard of those two. Watching them, I had a sudden very clear understanding that these were not people I would want to cross, clearer even than it had been the previous May when Mary was Imperiused. Even Lily looked impressed.

After a five minute exhibition, Viridian called a halt to the spectacular duel – awarding the boys ten points each in the process – and asked them to partner other people so the rest of us could get some practice in without them as a distraction. The change in their behaviour was palpable: without each other to duel, they were much more tentative as they were less sure of their partners’ abilities. James ended up with Remus, who put up a much better fight than I had anticipated, but it was nowhere near the earlier demonstration. Sirius, on the other hand, was snatched up by Clio Zeller, which I suspected was to his detriment as, because they were dating, he seemed hesitant to curse or jinx her at all, instead deflecting anything she cast at him with apparent ease and even boredom.

Turning to Mary again, I smiled apologetically at her as we resumed our own duel. After what we had just witnessed, anything we could do felt paltry and juvenile.

“Kind of makes you want to get better, doesn’t it?” I said as she cast her Shield Charm.

Mary nodded. “Aye. Though, please be kind t’ me. I’m no’ even on your standar’, le’ alone theirs.”

“I’ll try,” I promised. But even then I managed to shatter her Shield Charm with a well-placed jinx Bea had taught me, causing her to bark like a dog for half a minute or so. Giggling, I had just cast the counter-jinx when she was hit by a falling Peter Pettigrew, who was partnered with Carol Jones from Hufflepuff and appeared to have been flattened within the first minute of active duelling.

Looking around the room, everyone seemed to have a new determination to improve their skills. Even Martha and Al Jorkins from Hufflepuff, who had got together just a couple of weeks previously and were therefore still joined at the hip, were throwing actual hexes at each other rather than just going through the motions, as Sirius was doing with Clio.

Heading back upstairs for our free period afterwards, Mary pulled me aside. “Ye know, I think I’ve come t’ my senses a’ las’,” she said as we settled ourselves in an empty classroom.

“In what way?” I asked lightly. “I’d thought you lost most of those years ago.”

“Aye, I know,” she said with a grin. “Bu’ this is differen’. I go’ through tha’ whole Defence lesson wi’oot once droolin’ o’er James.”

I stared at her. “Really?”

She nodded. “Aye. I’m as surprised as ye are.”

I gave her a hug. “Mary! You’ve done it! You cracked it!”

She wriggled away from me. “Aye. An’ aboot time, too, I think.”

“So what brought it on?” I asked.

She scrunched up her face a bit as she considered. “I think it was a combination o’ what he said this morn an’ hoo he fough’ in Defence jus’ then,” she said eventually.

I thought about that. “Yeah, that’s probably fair enough.” If nothing else, during that Defence class he’d probably been too intimidating to drool over.

“It was nice while it lasted,” Mary went on, a reminiscent smile on her face. “He’s a goo’ lad t’ daydream aboot. Bu’ I always knew it woul’ never happen so there was always tha’ in the back o’ my min’. Ye jus’ have t’ see him looking a’ Lily t’ know tha’.”

“Well, Mary, I’m proud of you,” I said, giving her another hug. “Now we just need to find another boy to take your mind off him entirely – Gerry Stebbins, perhaps?”

She wrested herself away from me and pretended to aim her Defence textbook at my head. “No’ funny, Laura Caul’well.”

I pretended to be chastened. “Right, not him. Okay, how about … well, there’s always Sirius, that thing with Clio probably won’t last forever …” This time she did let go of the book, though I had plenty of time to duck before it hit a desk several feet behind me. “Okay, not Sirius either,” I conceded. “Gee you’re particular! Ummm – Severus Snape?”

Walking over to pick up her textbook, Mary burst out laughing. “Ah, Laura, ye’re no’ goin’ t’ give up on this, are ye? Hoo aboot we leave it fer now an’ when I find a lad I don’ min’, I’ll le’ ye know.”

I grinned. “You’ve got yourself a deal.” And we headed back to Gryffindor Tower, throwing names at each other all the way up to the seventh floor.

It was a good thing that Mary got over James, because a lot of life in our dormitory centred around trying to get Lily to admit she fancied him – or, at least, listening to Martha and Charlotte tease her about him. Harbouring a crush in those circumstances is a trial I wouldn’t have wished on anyone. (Okay, maybe Elvira, but she was a special case.) Even when he wasn’t around – or perhaps especially when he wasn’t around – he was very often the topic of conversation, regardless of context.

An example of this came the following Monday night the five Gryffindor girls were gathered around a table in the common room, finishing off stray bits of homework. The room was unusually quiet; the boys in our year weren’t around, probably serving detentions for their stunt in the Slytherin common room the previous week. I was working on my Transfiguration essay, Mary was flicking through her notes on carnivorous trees for Herbology, and Martha was doing some extra reading for Arithmancy. Lily and Charlotte had their Potions paper spread out in front of them but they weren’t really doing anything about it – in fact Charlotte was doodling idly on her parchment, and Lily seemed to be staring vacantly out the window, where in a cloudless sky a full moon was giving the grounds an eerie glow.

Suddenly, without warning and seemingly to nobody in particular, Charlotte spoke. “Maybe he actually will, though,” she mused, as though continuing a conversation she had been having earlier with someone.

“What?” asked Lily, confused.

“James. Die if you say no to him again,” Charlotte explained.

Lily laughed. “We can but dream.”

I grinned at her. “Back to denial, are we, Lily?”

She shook her head furiously. “I don’t know what you mean,” she said stubbornly. “But it’s nice to have a bit of a break every now and then.”

“If he did die, he’d prob’ly turn int’ a ghos’ an’ haunt ye ferever though,” said Mary, giggling at the thought.

Martha looked at them from over the top of _New Theory of Numerology_. “He can’t,” she said flatly, licking her finger and turning the page.

“Why not?” asked Lily, looking surprised. “I wouldn’t put it past him.”

“It happened to an aunt of mine,” Martha said, putting the book down and losing her page in the process. Unperturbed, she went on. “She got haunted by this girl she used to know at school who’d died, so she went to the Ministry about it and they put an order or something on the ghost, so she couldn’t go near my aunt anymore.” She picked up the book again and began thumbing through it, looking for the page she had been on.

“Now there’s a thought,” mused Lily, feigning a groan though her eyes were dancing. “Do you think they could put an order on James while he’s still alive?”

The rest of us burst into uncontrollable giggles.

****

That Friday, I was heading to the Great Hall for lunch after a particularly dull Ancient Runes lesson when someone, most probably Elvira, tried to hex Clio Zeller and missed, hitting me instead. Unsure exactly what the damage was, I slipped into the nearest toilets to check my reflection in the mirror and do whatever was necessary to fix it.

“Imaginative, Elvira,” I muttered to myself, looking at the boils on my face. The Furnunculus Curse wasn’t going to break Sirius and Clio up. I pulled out my wand and muttered the counter-curse, watching with satisfaction as the boils disappeared one by one. Who needed Madam Pomfrey when I had Beatrice?

I was distracted by Veronica Smethley, friend of Clio’s and also in Ancient Runes, coming out of a cubicle and fussing with soap and water to wash her hands. She looked up at me. “Got rid of the boils, then?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Not exactly inventive, was it?”

“Not really,” she said. “Though Clio was pretty pleased it missed her – she and Sirius have something planned after lunch, apparently.” I wondered vaguely whether Veronica still had a dormant crush on the boy, as I had suspected the previous term, but decided that even if she did she wasn’t going to ruin things for her best friend.

“Good thing then,” I grinned. “I’m just going to meet Mary. Doesn’t really compare, does it?”

“It’s about as good as I’ve got,” she said with a smile as she reached for the hand towel. “Thalia’s keeping a spot for me,” she went on by way of explanation, referring to another Hufflepuff sixth-year.

We were interrupted by the entrance of Maggie Flint, Slytherin and all-round vicious piece of work, who generally looked like she was ready to lord it over anyone she saw. Her face twisted into an evil grin when she saw Veronica who, I suddenly remembered, was Muggle-born.

“Oh, look, it’s Smethley,” she said fiercely. “A filthy Mudblood polluting our hallowed halls.”

Veronica, a good six inches shorter than Maggie, looked intimidated but tried to stand her ground. “Mudblood or not, I’ve got as much right as anyone else to be here,” she said, sounding somewhat feeble but plainly steeling herself.

“No you haven’t,” said Flint, now sounding a little bored. “Mudbloods have no right to be anywhere near here. Why don’t you go back to Muggleland where you belong?”

“I belong _here_ ,” whispered Veronica. Her wand was still in her bag and she was casting furtive glances to where it lay on the ground, obviously wondering whether she should risk searching for it.

Maggie, on the other hand, had her wand out. “Listen, Mudblood,” she drawled, “you don’t say who belongs here and who doesn’t. That’s the job of the elite. The pure-bloods. Who, I’m afraid to say, you will never have the honour of even cleaning their shoes.” Who needed correct grammar when they were picking a fight? Her wand was poised at Veronica’s nose and I was sure she was about to utter a nasty curse.

I’d been standing there the whole time, completely ignored by Flint and probably forgotten by Veronica. However, I’d not forgotten I had my wand out and ready, as opposed to Veronica’s which was still in her bag. So before Maggie could say anything else, I gave it a flick and muttered a few choice words Bea had taught me, and in less than a second Maggie’s nose began growing. It became longer and longer, and greyer and greyer, until it obscured her face and was reaching close to her knees. Veronica soon recovered her composure and looked at me.

“How did you do that? It’s an elephant’s trunk, isn’t it?”

“Yep,” I said, smiling broadly. “There’s times that sister of mine can be _very_ useful.”

My hex had distracted Flint enough to stop her from cursing Veronica, but she was still making an inordinate amount of noise as she tried in vain to stop its effects. Veronica and I were preparing to leave when the door opened once again and Professor McGonagall entered the room.

_Uh oh_ , I thought. _This can only end in tears._ McGonagall, who was strict but fair, looked from Flint to me, still with my wand out, to Veronica, whose hands were empty. “Miss Cauldwell,” she began, “what is the meaning of this?”

Veronica immediately began to make excuses for me. “Flint was about to curse me, Professor,” she said hurriedly, “and Laura just got in first to stop her.”

“Is this true?” she asked me, her eyebrows raised.

“Yes, Professor. Flint was threatening Veronica and being quite rude to her, frankly, so I tried to stop her.”

“And a Shield Charm wouldn’t have sufficed?” she asked icily.

“I didn’t think of that,” I admitted. “This was the first thing I thought of. And I didn’t have much time, she was going to curse Veronica any second.”

“Miss Flint?” McGonagall looked at Maggie. “What is your version of events?”

Flint gave what was probably her most winning smile, though we couldn’t see it very well, what with the elephant’s trunk protruding from the middle of her face. “It’s all lies, Professor. I just came in to use the loo and suddenly Cauldwell hexed me for no reason.”

Professor McGonagall looked at her shrewdly. “Then why do you have your wand out, Miss Flint? I take it you don’t usually need that for your ablutions?”

Maggie went a little pink, which I must say almost suited her. Behind the trunk, of course. “Self-defence, Professor,” she lied. “I’d only just got it out when you arrived.”

McGonagall’s lips went very thin and I could tell she was sceptical of Flint’s tale. However, in the absence of any proof either way she did the only thing she really could do.

“I think a detention will be in order, Miss Cauldwell,” she said. “And ten points from Gryffindor. Next time something like this happens, kindly notify a teacher before taking matters into your own hands. You will be informed later as to the nature of your punishment.”

“Yes, Professor,” I said, putting my wand away.

“Miss Flint, you will need to go to the hospital wing to have your trunk removed,” McGonagall continued, looking at Maggie.

Her voice sounded slightly muffled due to the trunk that covered the bottom part of her face. “But, Professor, my bag’s still in the Great Hall, I’ll need someone to get it for me.”

McGonagall smiled the smallest smile I’d ever seen. “No, Miss Flint, if you need your bag you can fetch it yourself. I will be happy to escort you to the Hall.” And she and Maggie exited the toilets and headed off downstairs.

Veronica and I grinned at each other. The whole school was going to see my handiwork, and it couldn’t have happened to a nicer girl.

****

The following night Slughorn held his Christmas party, and Charlotte and Lily were as usual expected to attend. There were usually some good stories from these gatherings so Mary, Martha and I decided to stay up until they got back so we could hear all about it.

Unfortunately this party appeared to have been less colourful than the one the previous year, most probably because none of the guests were quite as outrageous as Hambledon Quince had been. This year’s assortment had included Ambrosius Flume, best known for starting up Honeydukes, author Blenheim Stalk, and Devlin Whitehorn, founder of the Quidditch Racing Broom Company, who, while they were doubtlessly interesting enough in their own right, were never going to provide entertainment of the sort Quince had.

“It was almost dull, really,” said Lily as she fished in her trunk for some clean pyjamas. “You had the usual Quidditch crowd fawning over Whitehorn, and Ambrosius Flume brought some of the new fudges they’ve been developing, but it really wasn’t up to the standard of the usual Christmas do.”

“Which reminds me,” said Charlotte, “we brought you back some of that fudge. Try the cherry one, here –” she handed us some samples – “it’s really good.”

“An’ hoo was Slughorn?” asked Mary through a mouthful of cherry fudge. “Ye’re right, Charlotte, this really is verra goo’,” she added, grinning across the room.

Lily shrugged. “Much the same as usual. Overindulging in the mulled mead and crystallised pineapple – what a surprise. Raving on about Marcus Ogden, who must be the current Student of the Week. And he told me again I should have been in Slytherin,” she added almost as an afterthought. This was a regular comment of Slughorn’s, who was a little peeved his favourite student hadn’t been Sorted into his House. Lily being Lily generally came up with rather amusing responses.

Martha grinned. “And what did you say this time?”

Lily shrugged again but Charlotte was smiling broadly. “That she was flattered he’d think so but sharing a dorm with Alecto Carrow would be enough to drive anyone to jump off the Astronomy Tower.”

“No one can argue with that,” I said, shuddering as I imagined what it would be like to have to live in the same dorm as Alecto. “Imagine walking in on _her_ in the shower.”

Martha made a face. “If she ever took one, that is.”

Mary laughed. “Ye know, I don’ even think any o’ the lads woul’ want t’ see tha’,” she said, reaching for some more fudge. “Some things are much better lef’ covered up.”

“Oh, and you’ll be pleased with this, Laura,” Charlotte went on. “Someone actually did hex old Snivellus so the grease in his hair glows in the dark. That was your idea, wasn’t it?”

I nodded, a grin starting to form on my face. “Wasn’t me who did it though.”

Lily smiled. “Well, no, we didn’t think you did, but you did announce the idea in front of the whole Defence class, so there are two Houses who could have got to him to do it. It was a good idea, after all.”

Mary laughed. “Sure it wasn’ you, Lily?”

Lily shook her head, an expression of distaste coming on to her face. “No, but don’t think it didn’t occur to me. He came up to me again tonight trying to apologise and I had to use a Repelling Charm to shake him off.” Really, since she’d made the decision six months earlier to abandon her long friendship with Snape, she had developed a surprisingly strong dislike for him, though that probably wasn’t helped by the fact he appeared unable to take ‘no’ for an answer. “If he’d hassled me one more time I might well have done it,” she went on, smiling mischievously.

“So how does it look?” I asked.

Charlotte giggled. “Much as you’d expect, though I did hope Slughorn would turn off the lamps so we could tell for sure. Poor Snivellus didn’t look too impressed though.”

“Mmm, poor diddums,” Martha said lightly. “My heart breaks for him. So aside from that little diversion, what you girls are saying is, no talent there this year. I’m disappointed.”

Charlotte winked. “Except for James, of course.”

Lily rolled her eyes. “Yes, look-at-me-I’m-brilliant-James-Potter-who-won-the-Quidditch-Cup-single-handedly. The one who followed Devlin Whitehorn around all night like a lovesick puppy and barely even _looked_ at me.”

I grinned. “You sound disappointed. Something you’re not telling us, Lily?”

She went a little pink around the cheeks, which I was sure had nothing to do with any alcohol she may have consumed. “Not at all. Just an observation, that’s all.”

Charlotte smiled maliciously. “No, she’s not put out in the slightest. Though I will admit it was unusual behaviour from him.”

Mary looked at Lily, who had her head in her trunk pretending to look for something. “I’m guessin’ tha’ ye’ve go’ used t’ him behavin’ in a certain way, so when he doesn’ do tha’ then ye miss it.”

Lily looked up. “You know, Mary, that’s probably it. I don’t _like_ him drooling over me all the time like that, but when it went away I did miss it. Maybe he’s growing on me.”

Martha grinned. “Maybe? I thought we confirmed that months ago.”

Lily’s face was now very definitely red. “Oh, all right. I was looking for the ego trip and I didn’t get it. Happy now?”

Martha and Charlotte high-fived each other triumphantly. “Oh, yes, Lils,” said Martha merrily, “we’re very happy.”


	16. Detention

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laura finds out that detentions can actually be fun, even when Mary isn’t around and the only person she has to talk to is someone who wouldn’t normally acknowledge her at all.

Fortuna Robins from fifth year came up to me in the Great Hall at lunch time on Monday with a note from Professor McGonagall, advising my detention for hexing Maggie Flint would take place at seven o’clock that evening in Greenhouse Three, and I was to take my dragon-hide gloves. Mary read it over my shoulder.

“Well,” she said, “a’ leas’ it’s no’ doing the bedpans in the hospital wing.”

“Actually, it’s not bad,” I said. “I quite like gardening. And Greenhouse Three is always rather interesting – who knows, I might get bitten by a Venomous Tentacula after five minutes and have to go to said hospital wing. Where some other poor unfortunate soul might be cleaning out the bedpans.”

“Aye, ye never know yer luck. Shouldn’ be too ghastly in any case. An’ if it is, ye can always have a whinge t’ us in the dorm afterwards.”

At ten to seven I dutifully left the common room and made my way down to Greenhouse Three. To my surprise I discovered I wasn’t the only one serving detention that night: also waiting outside were two girls wearing Hufflepuff colours who were in maybe fourth or fifth year, a burly Slytherin boy who by the size of him had to be in seventh year, and Sirius.

Shortly afterwards Professor Sprout emerged from the greenhouse and looked us over. “Good,” she said, “you’re all here. Come in, then.” We obediently followed her inside.

I had never been inside the greenhouses after dark before and looked around with interest. Lanterns were suspended in mid-air about two feet from the ceiling, spaced so as to avoid contact with the huge umbrella-like flowers that were hanging there, and anything else that might have grown that high. The greenish-yellowish glow they emitted was scattered by the various thicknesses of foliage throughout the greenhouse, giving a speckled effect and making the overall result rather pretty though a little eerie.

“Gloves on, people,” said Sprout briskly, shattering the ghostly atmosphere with almost surprising speed. “We’ll be fertilising the pots tonight. We have recently procured a new supply of mooncalf dung, which is here,” she went on, indicating a large pile of manure near the door. “Buckets are here –” a flick of her wand produced a pile of red buckets – “get to it. Try not to disturb the soil too much around the Mandrakes. Oh, and mind the Fanged Geranium and the Venomous Tentacula, and try not to burst any of the Bubotubers!”

I smiled to myself as I tied my hair into a ponytail to stop it getting in the way. Once you got past the smell of mooncalf dung, it wasn’t too bad a detention. As I had said to Mary, I quite liked gardening, and even fertilising could be good when you wanted to do something a bit mindless.

Not far from where I stood Sirius was surveying the other three students distastefully, and I realised suddenly that the two Hufflepuff girls were members of the Sirius Black fan club. And the only other person there was a Slytherin. For want of a better option for someone to talk to, he sidled over to where I was by the Mandrakes. I didn’t mind – yes he was a bit of a prat, but I was immune to his good looks and he never bothered to put on the charm for people like me, so it would be just like talking to anyone else. Besides, it was always nice to have company during a detention.

“I don’t normally see you in detention, Cauldwell,” he said lightly. “What are you here for?”

“The usual,” I said, pulling on my gloves. “Hexing Slytherins. Maggie Flint, to be precise,” I added with a grin, for some reason wanting him to be impressed. “Did you see her elephant trunk?”

He looked incredulous. “That was you?”

I heard giggling from the other side of the Mandrakes and, looking through the foliage, noticed the two Hufflepuff girls huddled among the Bubotubers, failing abysmally in their efforts to be subtle while they gazed adoringly at Sirius.

“Yeah, well, she’s an ignorant troll and she had it coming,” I said, deciding to ignore the girls and grabbing a handful of dung. “Only problem was I got caught.”

“Do I take it you do that sort of thing often and don’t get caught?” he asked, picking up his bucket and dropping its entire contents over a single plant. I had to admire how good he was at ignoring the whispering and giggling coming from the next row, but then again he’d had years of practice with that sort of thing.

“Sometimes,” I said, taking care not to disturb the soil around my Mandrake. “But only if they deserve it.”

“And what did Maggie Flint do to deserve it?”

“She was having a go at Veronica Smethley in the toilets,” I said with a shrug. “For being Muggle-born and all that. Well, Veronica didn’t have her wand handy at the time and I did, so I jinxed her. Not much to it, really – except McGonagall chose that moment to walk in to see who was making all the noise.”

He was grinning. “More to you than meets the eye, isn’t there, Cauldwell?”

“There’s times it pays to be a nobody,” I said unconcernedly, moving on to another Mandrake. “I don’t think Maggie even realised I was there. Then again, she doesn’t acknowledge half-bloods anyway, so that might not say much. But I’m pretty sure she didn’t think I had it in me.”

“Most people wouldn’t think you had it in you.”

“Yeah, well,” I said, looking at him sternly, “what you people need to understand is that, with my sister, I know every jinx and hex she and her friends ever invented.”

“I hadn’t thought of it like that,” he said, Summoning another bucketful of fertiliser and unceremoniously dumping it all on another Mandrake. “But I thought you didn’t want to be thought of as her sister?”

I shook my head, rather surprised he’d remembered that. Maybe he paid more attention to other people than I’d given him credit for. “I can’t change that, so think what you like. What I don’t want is to be judged based on her behaviour, or treated as though I’m just like she is. Because I’m not.”

He paused as though considering what I’d said. “Yes, that’s fair,” he said eventually. “Right, I’ll try to remember that.”

More whispering and giggling came from among the Bubotubers and I threw the girls a filthy look. I could understand why Sirius found it so annoying – I’d experienced it for only five minutes and already I was ready to throttle them.

I indicated them with my thumb. “What would they be, fourth year? Do you think they’ve studied Bubotubers yet?”

He caught my eye and grinned, probably guessing what I was thinking. “Not sure, it’d have to be touch and go.”

“Well then,” I said, “one way to find out.” I glanced at the girls again, one of whom was looking curiously at the plant next to her. Going by the fact she hadn’t put her gloves on yet, I was guessing she didn’t know what they were. “Going back to my sister, Black,” I said more loudly, looking sideways at Sirius, “one thing everyone did get right is that if I’m provoked enough, occasionally I can be just as petty as she can.” And I picked up a wad of mooncalf dung and flicked it at the Bubotubers in the girls’ midst, hitting one of the swellings square on. It burst and the yellow pus hit the other girl on the arm just above her glove, flooding the air with its strong petrol-like aroma. Screaming, she ran to where the patched hat and flyaway hair of Professor Sprout could just be seen behind the Puffapods.

“Oh dear, you’ll have to go to the hospital wing,” I could hear Sprout saying to the girl. “I told you to be careful.” I smiled in satisfaction as we listened to the poor girl protesting as she was led out of the greenhouse.

Sirius was plainly trying not to laugh. “Nice shot! With an aim like that, you should be on the Quidditch team.”

I snorted. “And who do you think should give up their spot for me?” I asked, noticing the other Hufflepuff girl, deprived of her safety in numbers, had moved to a spot much further away but which still offered her a view of Sirius. “You think Potter would be happy to? Or maybe Clarrie Trimble?” Charlotte’s little brother was the find of the season so far, scoring two hundred and fifty points in just two games. “Or Anna Vector?” I went on, naming the team captain.

“Fair point,” he conceded. “But you should at least have tried out for it, you could be a reserve or something.”

“Nah, not my thing,” I said, Summoning another bucket of mooncalf dung and Banishing the empty one back to the pile. “I’m no good at Quidditch.”

Suddenly I heard another voice, almost muffled, saying, “Padfoot? Padfoot?” I looked up and saw Sirius pull off a glove and surreptitiously pull what looked like a square hand-mirror out of his pocket. He walked a short distance away from me and glanced quickly around the greenhouse, noting Professor Sprout wasn’t back yet from the hospital wing, before looking into it.

“Prongs, mate, how are you? And more to the point, where are you?”

“Cleaning up the third floor corridor for Filch,” came what sounded remarkably like James’ voice. Then again, I reasoned to myself, who else was known as ‘Prongs’? “Without magic,” James went on. “Seems he was getting sick of being followed around by Halley’s Comet all afternoon. How about you?”

“Fertilising plants in Greenhouse Three,” Sirius said, pulling off the other glove with his teeth and dropping it on the floor next to him. “Mandrakes, of all things. I’m not alone, though, so I can’t really talk.”

“Lucky you,” James’ voice said wryly. “Thought you would have had enough of Mandrakes to last you a lifetime.”

Sirius laughed. “These ones are going nowhere near my mouth, mate. They’re covered in mooncalf dung.” I looked up in surprise, wondering why on earth he would have been eating Mandrakes. Though, of course, most likely he hadn’t been and it was just code for something else. Probably this was another in-joke I wasn’t privy to.

James laughed too. “Can’t say I blame you. Honestly, though, you’d think they’d know better than to put you in the greenhouses if they don’t have to. Don’t you cause the plants to wilt?”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “Very funny.”

“Glad you appreciated it. So, anyone interesting there?”

“Not particularly,” Sirius said, sounding a little disappointed. Let’s face it, he could have been talking to someone much more interesting than me. “Cauldwell’s here, she gave Flint that elephant’s trunk last week. Rosier from Slytherin. And a couple of gigglers, though one’s had to go to the hospital wing already.” Hmmm, they obviously referred to the fan club as ‘gigglers’. Not a bad nickname.

James laughed again. “What did you do to her?”

“Wasn’t me, mate,” said Sirius, feigning shock at the very suggestion. “That Cauldwell, we’ll have to keep an eye on her. She did a great look-away pass with a handful of mooncalf dung and burst open a Bubotuber right next to the giggler so it splattered her. You couldn’t have aimed better yourself.” He looked up over the mirror and grinned at me.

“We’ll have to remember that one,” said James, chuckling appreciatively. “Oh, rats, it’s Filch, I’d better go. Catch you later, eh, Padfoot?”

Sirius nodded and put the mirror away, just in time as Sprout came bustling back in. She headed towards us. “Less talking, more fertilising,” she said briskly, then noticed Sirius’ bare hands. “Put your gloves back on, Mr Black, you could lose a finger if you’re not careful.” She looked pointedly at the Chinese Chomping Cabbages next to him before moving to a spot a couple of aisles away where the Slytherin boy was wrestling with a Fanged Geranium.

I looked at him curiously. “Was that a two-way mirror?” I asked, trying to make sure we weren’t overheard. I’d heard about the mirrors, which allowed conversation over long distances, but hadn’t actually seen one before.

“Maybe.” He looked a bit shifty as he put his gloves back on. “Viridian thought it would be a good idea to separate James and I on our detentions tonight.”

I nodded, moving down the aisle to the Chomping Cabbages. “This is for the model solar system you lot set up on the third floor today?”

“Yep. For some reason he thought we might egg each other on to do something else if we were in detention together. Can’t think why.” He moved around to my other side and selected a cabbage of his own to work on.

“No,” I deadpanned, “that sounds completely out of character.”

“Well, yes, we’re both such good boys,” he said, also straight-faced. “After all, you’re clearly the troublemaker here. I wasn’t the one throwing mooncalf dung around and dumping Bubotuber pus on other students.”

“I didn’t do that,” I said. “That was completely accidental. I knocked my elbow as I was trying to get my arm around the other side of the Mandrake. Where the dung landed was pure chance.” It made a good story, if nothing else, and was what I had planned to tell Professor Sprout if she asked me about it.

“Surely you can do better than that.” A grin started to form on his face as we moved down the aisle to the Snargaluffs our Herbology class been working on as a term project. “How about, a Venomous Tentacula nipped you right at the critical moment and, as a reflex action, your arm shot back and you let go of it.”

“I got surprised by a leaping toadstool and everything I was holding went everywhere,” I said.

“You slipped on a pile of fertiliser I had dropped and were just trying to get your balance back.”

“I was tripped by an errant Screechsnap.” I grinned as I Summoned another bucket.

“A Snargaluff bit you on the leg, you tripped and your bucket went everywhere,” he threw back, his grey eyes sparkling. It was like playing Swivenhodge with excuses, hitting them back and forth, and I was thoroughly enjoying myself.

The rest of the detention passed in similarly pleasant fashion, and when Professor Sprout called an end to it at ten o’clock I was surprised by how quickly the time had gone. She walked the four of us back to the castle, and Sirius and I headed upstairs after the Slytherin and Hufflepuff students took their leave of us on the ground floor.

Turning a corner on the first floor, Sirius grabbed my wrist suddenly and jerked me backwards, just in time to stop me walking straight into Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost. I was grateful for the intervention, as walking through ghosts is a rather horrible sensation. Sirius however seemed unperturbed and, dropping my wrist, just grinned at him.

“Nick! Nearly didn’t see you there.”

“I’m glad you did, Sirius,” Nick said. “Peeves is lurking around the next corner juggling a bust of Queen Maeve, wondering what to do with it.”

Sirius laughed. “So I take it he would think throwing it at us would be a solution to his problem?”

“I believe so,” the ghost said. “You might want to take a detour.”

“Thanks,” Sirius said. “Say, you don’t happen to know if James has finished his detention yet, do you? He was cleaning the third floor corridor for Filch.”

The ghost bowed his head. “I saw Filch going back to his office about half an hour ago, so I would think that was over.” He looked Sirius up and down, ignoring me - but then again I’d had very little to do with him over the years. Sirius being on first name terms with him, however, didn’t surprise me in the slightest. Everyone seemed to know Sirius. “You two really must stop getting so many detentions. It’s so hard to keep up with them all.”

“Rubbish, Nick, you love it,” Sirius said with a grin. “You need someone to keep you company around the castle at night.”

Taking the ghost’s advice, we did an about turn and took the long way around to get to the staircase leading to the second floor. “I didn’t realise the ghosts could be so helpful,” I said, watching Nick gliding through the wall over my shoulder.

Sirius shrugged. “Nick’s a good sort. Sometimes prefers the company of the living, though if the alternatives are Peeves and the Bloody Baron I don’t really blame him. I was half expecting him to come with us, to be honest.”

“Maybe I scared him off,” I said. “Or maybe it was the smell of mooncalf dung. We stink to high heaven at the moment.”

“Nah, he can’t smell anything,” Sirius said. “Probably just got something else to do.”

I sniffed my hands dramatically. “Even if he can’t smell normal things, he might be able to smell this.” I shook my head. The smell was so pervasive it had even got through the thick dragon-hide gloves we’d been wearing. “They really should bottle it, you know.”

“Yeah,” he said, making a face. “They could call it ‘perfume for Slytherins’.”

“‘Essence of Mulciber’,” I said, pulling my hair out of its ponytail and stowing the elastic in my pocket. “Scylla Pritchard would love it.”

“How about ‘Eau de Snape’?” he suggested. “Though really it would have to be ‘Eau de Snivellus’.”

“Now with bonus extra grease,” I said, imitating a bad wireless advertisement. “Or maybe ‘Avery’s Unction, the thickest you’ll find’.” We turned automatically on the second floor to slip behind a tapestry, taking a well-known short-cut to the fourth floor.

“‘Flint’s Fragrance’,” he said, taking a large step over the trick stair partway up.

“‘Spirit of Slughorn, with the goodness of slugs’.”

“‘Scylla’s Elixir’.”

“Nice one,” I said, thinking that could actually be the name of a legitimate perfume. Provided Scylla Pritchard’s face wasn’t part of the marketing campaign, that is. “All right, how about ‘Barkwith’s Bouquet, now with added Bulbadox’?” I grinned as we reached the top of the staircase and emerged onto the fourth floor.

Sirius was laughing. “Have you always been this funny?” he asked, looking at me sideways with a bit of an odd expression on his face.

I shrugged. “Well, you know what they say. You have to watch the quiet ones.”

He muttered something under his breath that sounded like “Clearly.”

I didn’t reply. Even though we’d been talking easily all evening, I still hadn’t forgotten who I was talking to and knew it would stop the minute we reached the common room where there were more interesting people around. Sure enough, once through the portrait hole, Sirius smiled briefly at me and headed straight to the fireside where James, Remus and Peter were waiting.

I went upstairs to put my gloves away and wash my hands, then grabbed my bag and went back to the common room to join Mary, Lily and Charlotte. The absent Martha, I guessed, was probably off in a broom cupboard somewhere with Al.

“Hoo was detention?” asked Mary, her Charms notes on the table in front of her.

“Fertilising the plants,” I said, also pulling out my Charms homework. “Which should explain why I went upstairs to wash my hands, rather than joining you lot straight away. Mooncalf dung doesn’t smell very nice.”

Charlotte looked a little confused. “Sirius was there too?” She had obviously seen us come in.

“Uh huh. Apparently Viridian thought he and James should serve their detentions separately. Beats me why,” I said, grinning.

“So it was just you two?”

“Now, now, Charlotte, don’t get any ideas,” I said, flattening a roll of parchment on the table so I could start my essay. “There were a couple of Hufflepuffs and a Slytherin there too. Just as well, too, otherwise we’d still be there. The Chomping Cabbages were in fine form.”

“Slytherin?” Mary asked sharply. “It wasn’ Avery, was it?”

I shook my head. “Some seventh-year. Sirius knew who he was but I forget the name.”

“Right.” Mary looked rather solemn. “’Cause I heard Avery’s go’ another detention – apparen’ly it was him who replaced the everlastin’ candles in the suits of armour on the fifth floor wi’ poisonous ones.” Christmas trimmings had just gone up, only for Dumbledore to discover rather promptly that the fifth floor wasn’t safe for that very reason. Needless to say the candles had been removed immediately.

“He is a charmer, isn’t he,” I mused. “Just the type you’d take home to meet Mother. I almost wish he _was_ there, I could have drenched him in mooncalf dung.” I grinned. “That sort of thing is always good for stress relief.”

Lily leaned over and sniffed me delicately. “Well, it seems like you managed to get it all off okay. I’m not sure I’d want to be sitting next to you if you hadn’t.” She smiled. “Looks like the boys have no such qualms though.”

By the fireside, James and Peter were taking turns smelling Sirius’ hands and making farting noises, guffawing loudly while Remus rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything. After a spell, plainly annoyed, Sirius cast a Scouring Charm on his hands to shut them up. Chastised, they set to work on whatever they had been doing before we got back.

The prevalent sound in the common room for a while was the scratching of quills on parchment and the turning of pages, most of the younger students unwilling to make much noise if the boys from our year weren’t doing so as well. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed Sirius glance at our table several times throughout the evening, each time looking as though something was bothering him.

****

If I’d thought that was the end of it, I learned otherwise at breakfast the next morning. As I walked between the Hufflepuff and Gryffindor tables towards my seat I suddenly noticed that my school bag had been turned into a toadstool. Shaking my head, I turned around and saw the two fourth-year girls from the previous night’s detention looking daggers at me.

“Come on, girls, you don’t honestly think I’m a threat, do you?” I asked, pulling my wand out of my robes and changing the bag back without fanfare.

“He spent all last night talking to you,” the girl who had stayed in detention for the full three hours said accusingly. “There must be something going on.”

I rolled my eyes. “You really think that? Look, we’re in the same House, the same year, and most of the same classes. He knows me. That’s all.”

“It’s not fair,” muttered the other girl, glaring at me with obvious jealousy, and I noticed without a trace of guilt that she still had bandages on her arm where the Bubotuber pus had splattered her the previous evening.

I laughed. This was too ridiculous for words. “Just get over it,” I said. “You can’t start jinxing every single girl he talks to. And besides, I don’t know if you’ve noticed but he already has a girlfriend and it’s definitely not me.”

Moving on, I found the other girls from my dorm further down the Gryffindor table and sat down. Lily looked at me curiously. “A toadstool? What was that about?”

“They were in our detention last night,” I explained. “Them, me, Sirius and some bloke from Slytherin. And now they’re jealous of me because Sirius chose my company over theirs.”

Lily nodded, satisfied. “Funny about that, if they were the alternative.” She smiled and turned back to her porridge, stirring a dollop of honey into it.

Sirius, sitting with the boys across the table and down a bit, looked at me quizzically, plainly not having heard what I’d told Lily. “What was that all about, Cauldwell?”

“Apparently you and I are having some kind of raging affair,” I said, grabbing a plate and helping myself to some toast and marmalade. The idea was so ludicrous I didn’t feel the least bit awkward discussing it as a concept. “They felt the need to put me in my place.”

Martha and Lily started laughing; Mary and Charlotte, both with a mouthful of food, just smiled. Obviously my opinion of the likelihood of what I had just said was a common one.

Sirius was laughing too. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Yes, I can’t work out how they found out about us,” I said, feeling surprisingly chipper for someone who hadn’t had her morning coffee yet. “We were being so careful!”

His face assumed its most serious expression. “You’re right, that’s terrible,” he said, ignoring James, who was struggling to keep a straight face, next to him. “Do you think it might have been that night up the Astronomy Tower they saw us?”

I pretended to consider it. “It could’ve been. Whatever should we do?”

“This isn’t good,” he said, still with a straight face, though the corners of his mouth were twitching slightly. “They might tell Clio, and then where would we be?”

“We’ll have to end it,” I said, my mouth also twitching as I struggled not to laugh. To hide my expression and recompose myself I poured myself a coffee. “I can’t have the whole school thinking of me as the ‘other woman’. My reputation may never recover.” Considering that as far as I was aware I didn’t have a reputation to begin with, aside from ‘Bea’s sister’, I didn’t have much to lose.

Sirius’ self-control had evaporated and he was laughing again, joining pretty much everyone else from our year. I joined in as soon as I’d swallowed my coffee.

James soon managed to calm down a little. “I think they’ve told Clio,” he said to Sirius. “She doesn’t seem too worried.”

I turned around to look at the Hufflepuff table, where sure enough the two fourth-years had found Clio and were talking to her, pointing extensively at me. Clio’s eyebrows were raised but she was obviously trying to suppress a giggle, with limited success. James was right, she didn’t look at all worried.

“They prob’ly though’ she’d dump ye o’ the spo’,” said Mary, looking at Sirius. “Which woul’ make ye single again, which woul’ mean they’d be in wi’ a chance.”

He rolled his eyes. “Yes, of course they would,” he said wearily, pouring tomato sauce onto his scrambled eggs and turning them over listlessly with his fork. “For some reason they all seem to think that.”

“Loosen up, Padfoot,” said Peter. “Some of us would love to have your problem.”

“Help yourself,” said Sirius, still sounding rather weary. “Please. Be my guest.”

Peter’s eyes darted over his shoulder to the Hufflepuff girls, a rather unpleasant smile on his face.

“Give it up, Wormtail,” said Remus. “You don’t want Sirius’ castoffs.”

The rest of the boys’ discussion was lost among the general commotion of the hall, but I noticed Peter still watching the fourth-year girls with what could only be described as a greedy look. Frankly it made me a bit uncomfortable, so I busied myself with finishing breakfast and concentrating on the girls’ conversation next to me.


	17. Lending a hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas holidays and then back to school in what seems like no time at all. Then James gets hit by a curse and it’s up to the girls to help find the counter-curse. But since when has Sirius been so chatty anyway?

The Christmas holidays were much the same as they had been the previous year, though without the distraction of Beatrice stressing about her NEWTs. I wondered if I should start doing that just so Dad had something to do, but decided it wasn’t worth the hassle of going out to Bobbin’s when I didn’t need a Calming Draught at all. After all, the snow had come and it was quite nasty outside, so heading out into it when there was no real need seemed a bit pointless.

Bea was still living at home – and would be, I suspected, until she was kicked out – but had managed to find work doing research for the Committee on Experimental Charms. We all agreed it was the perfect job for her, but knowing Bea she would botch it completely and end up unemployed before another twelvemonth was out.

Christmas Day itself was a palaver of running around to different family events. Because Mum was a Muggle, most of her family had absolutely no idea the magical world existed and so we had to go through a Muggle Christmas as well as a wizarding one. This meant at least two different Christmas functions, which were usually on the same day. Fortunately this year neither of them were at our house which made things a little easier, as all we had to do was show up with the right pile of gifts and make sure we took Mum’s car to her parents’ place in Bath rather than going by any magical methods. Which was easier said than done because a thick layer of snow coated the ground and the roads had iced up, making driving a little more difficult.

The remainder of the holiday was spent, as the previous year’s had been, doing the homework I’d been set over the break, watching old movies and various other things on the telly, and sitting in front of the fire with a good book. I didn’t get many as gifts that year so I had to scour our bookcases for something I hadn’t yet read, ending up with a sizeable pile which I worked my way through with care and attention. By the time I needed to start thinking about getting packed up and ready for school again there were only two books left in the pile, which Mum said I could take back to Hogwarts with me to read there. If I ever got a spare moment to read, that is, as I knew our mountains of homework would only get bigger as the year progressed.

The weather hadn’t improved much since the snowstorms had arrived and despite being wrapped up as warmly as possible we were all feeling rather cold and windswept when we arrived at Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters in early January, ready for the journey back to school.

It didn’t take long to find the other girls on the platform, bundled up in heavy coats though we were, and I noticed both Mary’s cat and Charlotte’s owl were huddled in the corners of their cages, shivering and looking for all the world like they would like some heavy coats too. My parents greeted everyone cheerfully and I stood back to talk to them before it was time to climb aboard the train.

“All set, sweetheart?” Dad asked fondly as I fumbled with the fastener of my suitcase.

“I think so,” I said, successfully opening the case and pulling out my woollen Gryffindor scarf. “Good, I’ll need this,” I went on, wrapping it around my neck. “If we think it’s cold here, it’ll be that much worse in Scotland.”

Mum nodded. “Look after yourself, won’t you?” she said. “And don’t get in too much trouble – four owls last term to tell us about detentions, that’s as many as you normally have in a year!”

“I’ll try,” I said with a smile. “There’s times I just lose my temper when people start going on about all the blood purity rubbish. But I’ll do my best.”

Dad smiled indulgently. “Still got a bit of the Welsh spirit in you, haven’t you?” he said. “Fair enough then. But only hex people if they really do deserve it.” He winked at me.

“Okay,” I said, still smiling. “Only if they really do deserve it.”

“Take care when you go to Hogsmeade,” Mum went on, “and don’t do anything too risky. We want you to come home in one piece if it’s at all possible.”

“Yes, Mum.” This was becoming a bit of a lecture now.

“And above all, enjoy yourself,” she said, smiling again. “Remember, you’re only young once.”

Just how I was supposed to be enjoying myself when I was staying out of trouble and not doing anything risky was a bit beyond me, but I smiled all the same. “Thanks, Mum. But I’ve got to go, it’s almost time to get onto the train.”

A couple of bear hugs later and I finally extricated myself from my parents and found a compartment with the rest of the girls, levitating our suitcases onto the luggage rack and settling down for the long journey.

“All set? Finally got rid of the olds?” Martha grinned at me, taking off her thick coat as she sat down. The train was significantly warmer than the platform outside to our immense relief, so much so that Charlotte’s glasses misted up a bit.

“Hey, what can I say, they miss me,” I said carelessly, making myself comfortable in my spot by the door. “Though if the alternative is Beatrice, I can’t say I’m surprised.” I grinned at her.

“Getting a big head in your old age, aren’t you, Laura?”

I shrugged. “Had to happen sometime, didn’t it? Anyway,” I went on, more seriously this time, “I finally managed to finish that Transfiguration essay – how much of a nightmare was that?”

Charlotte, sitting next to me, nodded. “You’re telling me. Who could possibly get three and a half feet out of the principles of rematerialisation?”

Mary, who on the platform had been almost unrecognisable underneath a thick woollen hat and muffler, just laughed. “I knew there was a reason I didn’ tak’ Transfiguration this year,” she said cheerfully, shaking her head to get rid of her ‘hat hair’. “I jus’ had t’ start on a paper fer Muggle Studies tha’ explains hoo a mechanical objec’ works.”

Lily looked at her with interest over the thick Gryffindor scarf she was still wearing, which blended surprisingly well with her hair. “What did you choose?”

“Television,” said Mary. “Can be a bi’ tricky, I know, bu’ I’m doin’ it wi’ Clio Zeller an’ she’s go’ some good ideas.”

“Well let me know if you need a hand,” Lily said. “Not that I know much myself, but I can always ask Dad for information if you’re stuck.” As a Muggle-born, Lily didn’t need to do Muggle Studies but was always a little curious as to what was taught there.

The remainder of the train journey was spent comparing stories of the different family Christmases we had had, and also comparing presents. Despite the dark way our world was heading, we still managed to do the usual teenaged girl thing and giggled our way back to Hogwarts as well as anyone could, knowing we would be reminded of the war soon enough and trying to enjoy the brief respite we were giving ourselves.

This turned out to be just as well, as the return feast that evening was a rather sober affair. Death Eater and dark creature attacks had been on the rise for a while and Professor Dumbledore highlighted the human costs of the war and the need to stick together to fight the evil that was Voldemort. Several of the Slytherins, I noticed, were looking at him with open derision, and people like Severus Snape and Irving Mulciber were blatantly talking over his speech as though it wasn’t worth even paying attention to. Whether Dumbledore noticed this I couldn’t have said, but if he did he continued nonetheless. His point was highlighted by the fact Rosamund Croaker, a seventh-year Ravenclaw, hadn’t returned after the break as her mother had been killed on Boxing Day, and we were all feeling rather sombre by the time the speech had finished.

The mood didn’t improve as the term progressed, either – not so much from the news of various Death Eater attacks but from the weather, which was if possible getting worse and would have depressed even the heartiest of souls. January was proving to be rather a trial, with snowstorms and winds of almost hurricane force peppering the castle. Due to the inclement weather students were allowed to make use of selected empty classrooms during breaks, and on a Tuesday before lunch four of the Gryffindor girls were settled in a disused room on the ground floor, Charlotte being in Divination.

“Oh, look,” said Mary, looking out the window, where it had stopped snowing and miraculously the sun had even come out. “Sirius an’ Clio are gettin’ cosy. Hope they don’ ge’ blown away oot there!”

It was true – they looked decidedly cosy as they snogged underneath the beech tree by the lake. Lily looked sharply at Martha to see if this caused any concern for her, but she was completely unconcerned. They had broken up over a year ago, after all. “Good luck to them,” she said vaguely, pulling a quill and ink bottle out of her bag.

“Whats tha’ bin now – two, three months?” asked Mary, still watching the figures by the lake. “They might be gettin’ serious.”

“Sirius, serious?” Martha snorted, aware of the play on words. “Please tell me you’re joking. He’s not going to fall for anyone just yet.”

I giggled. “Not even Dione?”

She laughed. “Oh, please. True love? Merlin only knows what potions she had to have been on to come up with that one.”

“No different from normal then,” Lily muttered darkly.

Martha turned and briefly looked out the window. “I wonder what James is doing,” she said almost abstractedly, facing the room again. “Must be in detention or something.”

“Why would you say that?” I asked.

Martha shrugged. “Well, that’s the only time he’d be seeking her out. When James isn’t around. Which kind of shows what his priorities are.”

Mary looked at Martha curiously. “It wasn’ tha’ bad, was it?”

Martha snorted again. “You bet it was. Really, I had the feeling it was just something to do when he got bored. If you’re competing with James for his attention, James will always win. Remus and Peter not so much, but James, definitely. And he’ll let you tag along with whatever they’re doing, but you _are_ just tagging along, you might as well not be there at all for all the attention he pays you.”

Lily looked thoughtful. “Is that why you said he’s not going to fall for anyone?” she asked. “Because he just doesn’t care?”

“Something like that,” Martha said, turning again to look out the window at the couple standing in the snow. “Looking at him with Clio, well they’re not much different to how him and me were. Or him and Dione, for that matter. He doesn’t hang out with her much on weekends, he eats at our table, he doesn’t pay her much attention when they’re in classes together. They weren’t even sitting together on the train, come to think of it. I don’t think I’ve ever seen them talk much. So it’s just like, have a great snog and a bit of a feel, and then go on your way. And it _is_ a great snog, I can tell you,” she added, smiling reminiscently.

“Ye’re prob’ly right,” said Mary. “I guess it was jus’ the constant snoggin’ tha’ had us thinkin’ it.”

“Don’t let that fool you,” said Martha. “It doesn’t mean anything.” She paused, her mind obviously going back over her own relationship with Sirius. “You know that revoltingly annoying thing he says, ‘once you go Black you’ll never go back’?” she asked after a bit, rolling her eyes dramatically. We nodded – he would occasionally spout that when he was feeling particularly pleased with himself, and I’d heard he’d even used it as a (really bad) pick-up line. “What’s even more annoying is, he’s right. No one else compares, he really is that good. And that makes it so darn irritating!” She shook her head in frustration while we groaned in agreement. After all, he already had everything else, why could he not be rubbish at _something_?

“It’s all the practice he gets,” Lily said with a grin. “Had to pay off somehow.”

Martha grinned as well. “Probably. Although,” she continued, almost as an afterthought, “I have a suspicion that if he does fall for someone, he’ll fall hard. That is, through the floor hard. The girl involved won’t know what hit her. Which should be very funny to watch.” She winked mischievously at us.

I looked at her thoughtfully. I mean, I barely knew the boy but there was something in her theory that made sense. “You know, I wouldn’t be at all surprised if that was true.”

Lily was nodding. “Me neither. And you’re right, Martha, when that happens, it will be hilarious.”

****

The following Sunday found us poring over the _Sunday Prophet_ having a look through the list of that week’s casualties from the war. “A good week this week,” I said with a bit of a wry smile. “You can count everyone in each list using just your fingers. How’s this, Julius Mordaunt, Pearl Fawcett and Roland McKinnon were all victims of _Avada Kedavra_.”

“Tha’s all?” Mary, sitting opposite, sounded incredulous.

“Oh, and families,” I clarified. “Fawcett had three kids with her, apparently, they were taken out as well. All under the age of eight, so they’re clearly high on the list of threats to You-Know-Who. Same with Mordaunt, two kids with him.”

“Bu’ still,” said Mary, looking rather serious, “tha’s no’ many fer a full week.”

“Maybe something happened,” said Martha. “You know, a bank holiday for Death Eaters, and they all took the day off.”

We all giggled and I went back to reading out the names. “Okay, Barbara McLaggen, Edith Hobday, Glen Deverill, Herb Murray and Beryl Prod were tortured.”

Charlotte, sitting next to me, took up the narrative. “Disappeared without a trace were Cyril Twonk, Valerie Jenkins, Kevin Pinkstone. Hey, do you think he’s related to, what’s her name, Carlotta Pinkstone?” Carlotta was a rather well-known character whose purpose in life was to lift the Statute of Secrecy and have Muggles find out about the magical world. Last I’d heard she was in Azkaban for her latest effort in breaking the Statute.

“Prob’ly, it’s no’ a verra common name,” Mary said. “Does it say hoo old he was?”

Charlotte looked more closely at the paper. “Uh, yeah, he’s forty-eight, so he could be a brother or something. She’s about that age, isn’t she?”

Martha nodded. “Something like that, I think.”

“Right,” Charlotte went on, her eyes going back to the newspaper. “Okay, disappeared list has Cyril Twonk, Valerie Jenkins, Kevin Pinkstone-brother-of-Carlotta-the-nutter, Phyllis Tremlett, Geoffrey Fancourt and Harold Cattermole.”

“Ugh.” Lily wrinkled up her nose. “Isn’t there a Cattermole in fourth year or something?”

“I think you might be right,” I said, nodding. “Hufflepuff, I think. Wonder if they’re related.”

“Again,” said Mary, “prob’ly, it’s no’ a verra common name.”

“I hate this war,” Lily said suddenly. “It’s all so pointless. No one can help what they were born or who their parents are, so why should anyone be persecuted because of it?”

“We all hate the war, Lily,” I said quietly. “Everyone does. Or, I should say, everyone except the Death Eaters and their Slytherin trainees.”

“Hear hear,” said Charlotte.

“And they’re picking on Ministry employees now, too,” I said, suddenly remembering something. “I got a letter from Dad yesterday and he said they reckon Robards from the Aurors’ Office is under the Imperius Curse.” I paused. “Though, how could you prove it? I mean, if the Death Eaters are casting that, they’d have to do a better job than Mulciber, wouldn’t they?” I stole a glance at Mary in the hope she wasn’t too concerned by me bringing that up again, but she just nodded and looked resolute.

“You’d hope they could do a better job than a fifth-year who hadn’t even sat his OWLs yet,” Martha pointed out.

“He’s not the only one, either,” said Charlotte. “I heard over the break they’ve targeted a few people for Imperiusing. Mostly from the Ministry like you said, Laura, but there are some others. I even think Hambledon Quince was one!”

That broke the sombre mood that had overtaken our area of the breakfast table. Lily started giggling and before long we’d all joined in.

“Hambledon Quince?” Lily choked, unable to stop laughing. “Really? But how could you possibly tell? He’s nutso enough as it is without anyone making him more so.”

Martha was looking rather thoughtful. “That could be why, though.”

The giggles stopped abruptly. “Why would you say that, Martha?” I asked.

“Well, if he’s got a reputation for being a nutter, like he does,” Martha said slowly, “then no one’s going to question him if he does anything strange. For him, there is no behaving out of character, unless he suddenly starts doing normal stuff.”

“Ye know, ye’ve go’ a poin’,” said Mary. “He coul’ well be one o’ their bes’ recruits if he doesn’ raise any suspicions.”

Charlotte glanced at the ceiling, which was dark with storm clouds and occasional lightning bolts. “I’m going to the library,” she said, changing the subject. “That Defence essay isn’t going to write itself and I’d like to get a head start on it before we get back into classes tomorrow.”

Lily nodded. “Good idea, Charlotte. Wait up, will you, I’ll come with you.”

Not that that went entirely as planned, either. Lily came back to the common room later that afternoon with her essay completed, but without Charlotte.

“I don’t think we’ll be seeing much of Charlotte for a while,” she said with a grin, her green eyes sparkling.

“Uh oh.” Martha had plainly seen this look on Lily’s face before. “Who is he?”

“Hector Bole,” Lily said.

I raised my eyebrows in surprise. “Charlotte’s got together with Hector?” As in, Hector who I went to the Yule Ball with? Somehow it didn’t seem right.

Martha just shook her head. “I knew she shouldn’t have drunk that old vitamin potion yesterday. Bound to be dodgy and now look, it’s clouded her judgement.”

Lily laughed. “A bit unfair, I think, Martha. Though I was surprised too. But I caught them snogging in the Astronomy section, you know the spot, just behind where Madam Pince keeps the Charms journals. Needless to say she didn’t come back to our table after that.” She paused. “Though I will say he’s not much like Remus.”

Martha gasped dramatically. “Are you saying Charlotte fancies _Remus_?” she asked with fake astonishment. “I had no idea!”

“Does she seem happy?” I asked.

Lily nodded. “Yes, I think so. Not my taste, of course, but then again the world would be a very boring place if everyone found the same things attractive in people.” And Hector looked nothing like James, I noted privately.

Mary grinned. “So ye were lef’ alone fer long enough t’ finish yer own essay.”

“Spot on, Mary.” Lily smiled. “Let’s just say I had no desire to watch them snogging all afternoon, and that was the easiest way to take my mind off it. It was why I was in there, after all. And fortunately they stayed well clear of the Defence section so I could do the essay in peace.” Her eyes sparkled again and she grinned mischievously.

“Ah, well,” Martha mused, “must say I didn’t see it coming, but if that’s what she wants …”

****

A couple of days later I was surprised to be joined by Sirius at the lunch table. “Got a question for you, Cauldwell,” he said as he sat down, turfing out a couple of what looked like second-years in the process. “Pr- James has just been hit with a hex that’s stuck his tongue to the roof of his mouth. Madam Pomfrey hasn’t seen it before – is that one of your sister’s?”

Swallowing my surprise someone like him was actually seeking my company – and not as the result of a dare – I thought about it. “I don’t think so. I don’t remember her ever doing that one, and I think she would have fairly often if she knew it. Shutting someone up is the sort of thing she’d really like doing.” I paused, looking at him. “Why?”

He looked disappointed. “Damn. I thought you might know the counter-jinx – no one’s been able to fix it yet.”

I shook my head. “Sorry, but no. Although …” I paused again.

He cottoned on. “What?”

I hesitated, then decided to plough on with what I’d been about to ask. “If you do find out what the spell is, and the counter-spell, could you let me know? That’d be a good one.”

He chuckled. “I can’t disagree, but it’s not likely we’ll ever find out. It came from Snivellus, and we’re the last ones he’d share something like that with.”

“What a surprise,” I said. “Anything in particular you lot did this time, or was he just looking for someone to hex?”

A smile tugged at the corners of Sirius’ mouth. “Well, we _might_ have put Wartcap powder on the inside of his robes …”

I laughed. “Say no more.” Then something occurred to me. “Hang on, it was Snape?” He nodded and I looked two seats down the table. “Oi, Lily!”

Lily, like the other girls, had been listening in on the whole conversation with interest, but now pretended she’d not been paying attention. “Yes?”

“Did Snape ever teach you a spell that – what was it, Black?”

Sirius obligingly filled her in. “Sticks your tongue to the roof of your mouth.”

I nodded. “Yeah, that.”

She thought about it for a bit. “ _Langlock_ ,” she said eventually.

“What?” Sirius looked like he was trying to commit it to memory.

“ _Langlock_ ,” Lily repeated, looking like she was trying not to smile. “Laura’s right, it’s a Severus spell.”

Sirius looked confused. “Do you mean he invented it?”

Lily nodded. “Yes, that’s right. He’s invented a lot of spells, but not all of them are very nice or even particularly funny.” She grimaced slightly.

“Right.” Sirius looked like he wasn’t really sure what to make of that information. “Do you know the counter-jinx at all?”

“No, sorry,” said Lily, shaking her head. “Though if I know Severus, I’d guess _Finite incantatem_ wouldn’t work.”

Sirius shook his head too. “Nope, that was the first thing we thought of.” He stood up. “Well, I did try. Thanks anyway.”

“No worries,” I said vaguely, turning back to my pork chops. Lily made an equally vague gesture of farewell before she too concentrated on finishing her lunch.

Martha was all curiosity. “Since when has Sirius begun asking you things like that, Laura?”

I shrugged. “Since we did that detention together before Christmas, I think. I let slip that Bea taught me all those hexes she invented. Though in hindsight that might have been a dumb move.”

Mary giggled. “I shoul’ think so. Ye’ll never see the back o’ him now, he’ll be wantin’ ye t’ teach him.”

“Oh no.” I shuddered. “I never even thought of that. It seemed harmless enough saying it at the time, it’s not like he ever spoke to me before.”

“Heavens,” said Lily, “those four knowing your sister’s spells. The school won’t know what’s hit it.”

“And you’re a fine one to talk,” I said with a grin. “The person who unleashed _Levicorpus_ on Hogwarts.”

She smiled. “Well, yes, but that was to make a point.”

Martha giggled. “What, that you fancy the pants off James? I dunno, Lils, there are probably more subtle ways of getting to see him half-naked. You _could_ just ask, you know, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind, and he might even choose somewhere more private than the Transfiguration –”

“You _know_ that wasn’t what I meant,” Lily interrupted, blushing furiously as Martha dissolved into laughter.

“Are ye sure?” asked Mary, smiling wickedly and winking in Martha’s direction. “Ye don’ soond as though ye believe tha’ yerself, le’ alone tryin’ t’ convince us.”

Lily tried to take control by changing the subject. “So, Laura, what are you going to do? Teach the boys your sister’s spells, or try to get out of it somehow?”

I decided to placate her, thinking she’d probably suffered enough. “Well, they haven’t asked me to yet.”

“Bu’ ye know they will,” Mary said.

“Yeah, it does seem likely, now you’ve mentioned it,” I admitted. “I could always refuse, I guess. I don’t know, something like Bea asked me not to share them until they get Ministry-approved.”

Martha laughed again. “Well, if anyone could pull that off, it’d be you. How you manage to keep a straight face with some of those things you say is beyond me.”

I grinned mischievously. “When you’ve got a sister like Bea, you get good at all sorts of things. It’s called self-preservation. Your survival instinct just kicks in.”

We eventually left the Great Hall and headed up to the first floor for our afternoon Defence lesson, collecting Charlotte from Hector’s side at the Ravenclaw table as we went. I was somewhat surprised when we neared Viridian’s classroom to see all four boys were already there, waiting outside.

“He must have ha’ the hex removed,” Mary said quietly, looking at James.

“What?” Charlotte looked confused.

“Apparently Snivellus hit James with a jinx that glued his tongue to the roof of his mouth,” Martha explained. “Last we heard they’d not been able to fix it.”

“Well it’s certainly fixed now,” Lily said as James’ laugh echoed in the stone corridor.

I wanted to know how they’d reversed the hex but wasn’t really game to go up to someone like James Potter or Sirius Black, especially as part of a group like that, to ask. Fortunately Sirius noticed the quizzical look my face must have worn and volunteered the information.

“Dumbledore,” he said, taking a couple of steps in our direction as we approached. “Once we knew the incantation he could figure out the counter-jinx. The man’s a genius.” He grinned broadly. “So thanks for that, Evans.”

James spun around to face us. “Evans? Was it you who helped out?” As always, his hand went automatically to his hair when he realised she was nearby, though at least he’d abandoned that stupid ‘Lily voice’ he’d previously put on for her benefit, having possibly worked out all she did was laugh at it.

Lily blushed and got rather defensive, something I’d noticed she did sometimes when she was worried she might let slip something that indicated she did in fact fancy James. “Only because Laura asked me, Potter,” she said icily, recovering her composure. “If I’d known it was for you I’d never have volunteered the information.”

I suppressed a smile. Since no one had actually said directly to her it was James who’d been hexed, either just now or in the Great Hall earlier, she’d just admitted she had in fact known all along. I wondered if James realised that.

“Well thank you, milady,” James said with mock politeness. “Though if you’d rather think of it like this, you’ve done the school a favour. If old Snivelly casts that one at anyone again, at least Madam Pomfrey now knows how to reverse it.”

“Absolutely,” Sirius said. “If you’re not careful, doing things like that too often might even see you made Head Girl.” He paused, a cocky grin on his face. “Then again, Evans, you might just be enough of a goody-two-shoes to actually _want_ that job …”

Lily shook her head in frustration. “I’m not even going to dignify that with an answer,” she said, turning her back on the boys and facing us.

“But you just did,” Peter piped up gleefully, turning around with a hopeful hand up in case any of the boys decided to high-five him. (Only Remus did, and that was half-heartedly at best, as though he felt sorry for him.)

We all groaned. “Ignore him,” Charlotte muttered. “ _How_ we ended up in the same House as those four …”

Unfortunately James heard her. “Don’t say that, Trimble,” he said cheerfully. “You know you love us, really.” He winked at us, smiling broadly.

“Ignore them all,” said Martha, not caring who heard. And we were fortunately saved from further conversation by the door opening and Viridian letting us into the classroom.


	18. Werewolves are people, too

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lily has a shock and misses Viridian’s most important class of the year – or not, depending on what you think about werewolves. And we begin Apparition lessons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter includes characters being a little blasé about cancer. If you or a loved one have been affected by this disease, please proceed with caution.

 

On Friday morning Lily was surprised to receive a letter when the post owls showed up, since her parents were Muggles and didn’t often utilise wizarding communication methods. When she read it, however, her face dropped and she looked like she was trying not to cry.

Charlotte was closest to her. “Lils, what’s wrong? Bad news?”

Lily nodded silently and started to hand Charlotte the letter, then stopped herself. “No, Laura should read it. You’ll understand.” And ignoring the other girls’ baffled expressions, she reached across the table and gave the letter to me, then collapsed onto the table, sobbing into her arms.

I understood pretty quickly why she had wanted me to read it. As Charlotte had guessed it definitely contained bad news but the other three, as pure-bloods, may not have understood why. Her mum had been diagnosed with breast cancer and the expectation was she had less than three years to live.

Cancer had managed to evade the wizarding world for some reason. That is, it did crop up occasionally, but very rarely and its impact wasn’t widely known. And so I needed to find a way I could explain to the other girls what the problem was.

“Lily’s mum’s ill,” I said. “She’s got a Muggle disease which basically eats the healthy cells inside her. They’ve only just found out and the prognosis isn’t good.” Simplistic, I know, but they understood.

Lily was promptly inundated with hugs and declarations of sympathy. Mary caught my eye over the general commotion.

“What’s the disease?” she asked.

“Cancer,” I said.

She nodded. “I wondered. We learned aboot Muggle illnesses las’ year in Muggle Studies. It soonds pretty ba’.”

“Yes, it’s not the best,” I said, giving Lily a hug across the table. She was still crying but seemed to be feeling a bit better.

Charlotte was watching her friend sympathetically. “Did you want to go see Madam Pomfrey? She can give you something for the shock. You probably don’t want to go to Defence like this.”

Lily considered. “Yes, I think that might be a good idea. Can you make my apologies to Viridian?” This was directed to the rest of us, as Charlotte had already started helping her stand up.

“Of course,” Martha said. “You get yourself looked after. We’ll fill you in on anything you miss.”

Naturally James Potter noticed Lily’s predicament, and he confronted Martha, Mary and I as we left the Great Hall on our way to Defence.

“What’s wrong with Evans?” he asked, his face full of concern as he fell into step with us.

“Her mum’s ill,” I said, unsure how much Lily would want James to know. “She only just found out.”

“You mean, really ill?” His hazel eyes raked over each of us as though that would give him more information.

“Cancer,” Mary said. Of course, he was in her Muggle Studies class. He would know what the word ‘cancer’ meant to Muggles.

He looked horrified. “But that’s awful. Is it very bad?”

“It doesn’t look good,” I said. “A few years, maybe, but that’s most probably it. Lily’s pretty upset.”

“That’s right,” Martha added defensively, “and she doesn’t need _you_ stepping in and making things worse.”

He blanched at the implied insult but soon recovered himself and nodded. “I’ll be good as gold,” he promised. “But do me one favour?” We looked at him curiously. “Let me know if there _is_ anything I can do for her? I mean, anything at all.”

I found myself nodding in agreement. James was actually quite a nice person underneath the rich-good-looking-and-arrogant façade, as I had discovered the previous year when Mary was attacked, so this seemed only fair to agree to. To my vague surprise I noticed Martha and Mary doing the same thing.

“We can prob’ly manage tha’, Potter,” Mary said. “I’ll keep ye posted in Muggle Studies, okay?”

He flashed her a relieved smile and hastened his step so he could join Sirius, Remus and Peter, who were a few yards ahead of us.

Martha made Lily and Charlotte’s apologies to Professor Viridian as we ploughed into his classroom and found our seats. Unsure whether Charlotte would be joining us in the lesson, we decided to take copious notes so we could fill them both in later on.

Viridian silenced the class with ease, as he always did. Again I was struck with the juxtaposition between his almost imbecilic appearance and his very shrewd mind and behaviour, and, my wand out, I waited with the rest of the class for him to begin.

“Wands away, please,” he said in that quiet voice of his which still for some reason managed to carry throughout the classroom with ease. We all put our wands away with mutters of disappointment; we had had very few Defence lessons without our wands that were remotely interesting.

“Now, then, sixth-years, today we are going to discuss werewolves.” He ignored the general murmur that resonated through the room as we all tried to look interested. “I know you studied them extensively last year, and were tested on them in your OWL exams. However, I have looked at Professor Dingle’s curriculum and I believe some aspects of his teaching were less than adequate. I have discussed this matter with Professor Dumbledore and he has agreed to allow me to take one lesson for each class from third year and above to attempt to rectify this.”

There was a sudden movement behind me and I turned to see that James and Sirius had not put their wands away and were now clutching them angrily, their narrowed eyes fixed on Viridian. Remus was making warning sounds at them and Peter just looked intimidated, as he often did when they were in full flight.

Professor Viridian elected to ignore this little show and started walking back and forth at the front of the room. “Werewolves,” he said clearly, “are people. They are simply people who have been bitten by another werewolf, generally through no fault of their own. This is a key point that I want you to remember at all times when you are studying, reading about or discussing werewolves.”

He paused briefly, his gaze resting on James and Sirius, who I noticed had now put their wands down and seemed to have relaxed a little. In fact, they looked almost interested in what Professor Viridian was going to say, which was a marked contrast to their normal behaviour during his class. Viridian went on. “I am not claiming werewolves are not monsters who can maim and kill. However, it is very important to remember they only do these things when there is a full moon, that is, one night in twenty-eight. For that one night they are not in control of their actions. For that one night, yes, they are monsters.

“However, for the other twenty-seven nights, and at all times during daylight, they are, like I said, people. They are not a danger to you or to anyone else during those times, unless they are not very nice people, in which case they’re as much a danger as any other wizard can be. But here I refer to character rather than anything physiological. For during the time they are not transformed, they are just like you or me in the physiological sense.

“Now, in the current war, some werewolves have openly proclaimed their allegiances to Lord Voldemort.” Several students gasped at his use of the name, myself probably included, but Viridian ignored it. “This is because Voldemort has promised to give them full acceptance. You can understand how that would be enticing for them. However, as I mentioned before, this is part of a person’s character, whether they would be likely to be convinced by that proposal, not a by-product of their condition. Not all werewolves have joined Voldemort, and not all of them will.”

Carol Jones’ hand was up. “But Professor,” she said, “surely you don’t mean to put us off our guard? Werewolves are still extremely dangerous.” Her eyes flicked to Remus and I remembered the absurd theory Snape had spouted the previous year – maybe Carol had believed it. Remus, in turn, was ignoring her and looking stonily ahead.

“I don’t disagree with you, Miss Jones,” said Viridian. “One night out of twenty-eight, when the moon is full, they are extremely dangerous. And you would all do well to remember to stay indoors during that time to minimise the chances of an attack. So I have no intention of putting you off your guard, for that one night. But what I am also trying to do is address the prejudice that exists around werewolves.” He paused and looked us all over.

“I know a werewolf,” he said eventually. “She’s a good woman. She has friends and a loving family and a job. Many of the people she knows don’t realise she’s a werewolf. And that’s because she could lose her job, her friends could abandon her and her family, who support her, could be ostracised by the rest of society. All because she was in the wrong place at the wrong time when she was a teenager.”

“But why would she lose her job, sir?” Davey Gudgeon asked.

Professor Viridian stopped pacing again and turned to face him. “Mr Gudgeon, if you learned that one of your classmates was a werewolf, what would you think?”

Davey started visibly. “I’d, er, um, I’d, um … I’d be shocked,” he admitted, his face scarlet.

“And would you treat that person the same way as you had previously?” asked Viridian. “Say it’s your best friend. If Mr Dearborn here was a werewolf, and you found out, what would you do? Not that I’m suggesting Mr Dearborn _is_ a werewolf. But it’s an interesting hypothetical question.”

Davey was looking rather flummoxed. “I’d like to say that I wouldn’t treat him any differently, sir,” he said, “but I’m not sure that’s true. I don’t know how I’d react.”

“And that is precisely the problem,” Viridian said with a smile. “This prejudice is ingrained into us as children. People have good intentions about being open minded about such things, but their actions do not always mirror their words. And so some employers, albeit subconsciously perhaps, will not employ werewolves. They perceive a danger to their other staff, to their customers, to themselves.”

He waved his wand and a pile of books appeared on his desk. “This book was released a year or two ago,” he said. “It’s called _Hairy Snout, Human Heart_ , and it’s anonymous. The author, a werewolf, doesn’t wish to be identified due to these very prejudices.” He flicked his wand again and the books soared across the room, one landing on each desk. “I want you to read it and write a two-foot summary, to be handed in to me next Friday.”

****

We caught up with Charlotte in the morning break. “Lily’s staying in the hospital wing for a bit,” she said. “She doesn’t have any more classes today so Madam Pomfrey thought it was best if she just stays there until she feels up to leaving. She’s had a Calming Draught so that’ll help.”

“Probably a good idea,” I said. “It can’t be nice, having a shock like that. I guess it was lucky in a sense that it was a day she doesn’t have much on.”

“That reminds me,” said Charlotte, “what did I miss in Defence?”

Martha handed her a copy of _Hairy Snout, Human Heart_. “He talked to us about how werewolves are people too, who have just – what was it? – been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Homework is to read the book and hand in a summary next Friday.”

Charlotte groaned. “Read the whole book? How long is that going to take?”

Mary shrugged. “I suppose tha’ depends on hoo fas’ ye read. Bu’ it’s no’ tha’ long a book, ye shoul’ be able t’ ge’ a chunk read by tonight, even.”

Charlotte shook her head. “I’ve got Divination this afternoon. I guess I could get a start on it now, though … though I had planned to get to work on that Potions essay Slughorn wants by Monday.” She paused. “How long is the Defence essay supposed to be?”

Martha looked at her notes. “Two feet. So that’s not too bad. Almost short, compared to everything else we’ve got.” She looked at us questioningly. “Shall I take Lily’s copy of the book up to her, or do you think I should wait until she’s out of the hospital wing?”

“Tak’ it t’ her now,” said Mary. “It’ll give her summit else t’ think aboot.”

“Good idea,” I said. “And who knows? It might even be a decent read.”

And a decent read it indeed turned out to be. Once I started reading the book, that night in the common room, I had trouble putting it down. It was heart breaking, the way society treated this person just because they’d had the misfortune to encounter a werewolf during the full moon. In a way it reminded me of the whole blood purity thing, where people were judged on something which again they had no power over – who their parents were – and reinstated my conviction that any assessment made about someone based on something they couldn’t control wasn’t an assessment worth taking any notice of.

I wasn’t the only one who felt this way, either. By Sunday night all the girls in my dorm had finished the book and were talking it over as we got ready for bed.

“I can’t get over it,” Charlotte said as she combed her hair. “I mean, I knew about werewolves – who doesn’t – but I’d never thought of what it would be like to actually be one. That’s horrible!”

Lily grinned: she had been in a much better state since her stay in the hospital wing and was almost back to her old self again. “I must say, being Muggle-born I didn’t have the prejudices most of you seem to have grown up with. We knew about werewolves, of course, but only in the context of horror stories – I don’t think any Muggles realise they’re real.” She paused, looking at Charlotte. “So to me this book is more sad than anything else – sad someone would have to put up with that, even though what happened to them isn’t their fault.”

I nodded. “I had both the Muggle horror stories and the wizard prejudice, and they don’t exactly cancel each other out. But my dad always said to not credit every bad thing you read, and there’s always more than one side to a story. So I guess this just confirms that.”

Martha nodded her agreement. “It was certainly an eye-opener, wasn’t it? I’ll admit it was something I’d never even thought about. Much like you, Charlotte.”

Mary was looking at the cover of her book, her brow furrowed. “I wonder if there’s a book lik’ it bu’ aboot vampires?” she asked. “If we’re t’ read aboot one of the dark creatures lik’ tha’, why no’ the ithers?”

“Well, there’d have to have been a book written about that for us to read,” Charlotte said.

Lily giggled suddenly. “Or we could just ask that Slytherin boy,” she said. “The one in second year who’s supposed to have a vampire grandfather or something. What’s his name again?”

“Death, wasn’t it?” said Martha, also giggling. “Something really appropriate like that.”

“That’s it,” said Charlotte. “Lorcan d’Eath. He’s in the Slug Club, solely because of the vampire thing, and Slughorn absolutely _fawns_ over him. Poor kid – it must be bad enough going through life with a name like that, without being part vampire as well.”

Mary laughed. “Goo’ thing there are no werewolves in the school, then. Slughorn’d be fawnin’ over them lik’ nobody’s business.”

Lily looked almost uncomfortable for a moment before her face broke into a grin. “Definitely a good thing. If that book’s anything to go by they’d have a hard enough time of it without having to deal with Slughorn on top of everything else.”

“You’re right, Lils,” Charlotte said, looking at the book’s cover again. “I had no idea it was that horrible. Makes me thank my lucky stars I’ve never been bitten, let me tell you.”

****

In late January notices went up on the common room boards stating that sixth-years who would be seventeen by August thirty-first were eligible to take Apparition lessons. You couldn’t get an Apparition licence until you were of age, but obviously the Ministry thought it a good idea to start teaching people the basics beforehand, particularly in the current climate when it could literally mean the difference between life and death if the Death Eaters got hold of you.

The lessons were due to begin in early February and would go for twelve weeks, so we all put the dates in our diaries and prepared to sacrifice both six Galleons, and our Saturday mornings for three months, for the greater good.

For the first class, the sixth-years gathered nervously in the Entrance Hall, waiting for direction from one of the Heads of House as to where the lessons would be. We understood they were generally held on the lawns outside the castle, but if the weather was unsuitable then the Great Hall might be used. That first morning it was clear but cold and it was decided the grounds would be used, despite the covering of snow that still blanketed the landscape.

Professor McGonagall introduced a very short wizard from the Ministry of Magic called Wilkie Twycross, who would be instructing us in the art of Apparition for the duration of the course. After the usual warnings (“the ban on Apparating at Hogwarts has been lifted, just for an hour and for this patch of ground only, so don’t try this anywhere else”), we were asked to arrange ourselves so we had a clear five feet of space in front of us.

Obediently we put ourselves into orderly lines and rows, me immediately behind Mary, with Martha on my right, Charlotte in front of her and Lily behind her. On my left Remus Lupin smiled nervously, and I noticed Gerry Stebbins on Mary’s left, a hopeful look on his face. Hoops appeared in front of us.

The small Ministry wizard was talking. “Apparition,” he said, “is mastery of the witch or wizard of the three Ds: Destination, Determination and Deliberation.”

We all looked at each other, confused – it may as well have been Chinese for all the sense I made of it.

“Destination,” went on the dry voice of Wilkie Twycross, “is the first step. Focus your mind _clearly_ on your desired destination. In this case, your hoop.”

We all looked dutifully at the hoops on the snow in front of us, hoping we were focusing enough.

“The second step is Determination. Focus your determination to occupy that spot you are visualising. This is the most important place you could possibly be! Make yourself _yearn_ to be in that hoop!”

We all felt a little awkward now and nervously looked around to see if everyone else was doing what the Ministry wizard was telling us. After we all caught more eyes than we were comfortable with, we looked again at our hoops, trying to feel a yearning for that small enclosed patch of ground.

“Deliberation is the third step,” said Wilkie Twycross. “When I give the command – and only when I give the command – turn on the spot, feeling your way into nothingness, moving with _deliberation_!” I was sure the rest of the students there were just as baffled by this as I was, but focused on the hoop nonetheless. I could hear Twycross somewhere at the front of the class saying, “On my command, now. One. Two. THREE!!”

What? Were we supposed to be trying to Apparate already? I looked around to see Remus on my left, who looked positively terrified at the thought. Martha, on the other hand, was staring with uncommon determination on her hoop, and then very awkwardly fell forwards onto her face.

_Right, Laura, focus,_ I thought, trying to remember the order of the three Ds. Screwing up my face in concentration, I tried to move with deliberation into my hoop, and opened my eyes to find I hadn’t moved an inch.

Fortunately, neither had anyone else, except for a few variations on what had happened to Martha. Caradoc Dearborn appeared to have toppled forward as well, while Charon Avery actually jumped into the air, did a full three hundred and sixty degree turn, and landed back in his original spot. The Ministry wizard looked completely unperturbed at his class’ lack of success and simply marshalled us into another attempt.

By the end of the hour-long class, the closest anyone had come to Apparating was Greta Catchlove from Ravenclaw, who had a couple of fingernails make it to her hoop without her. The Heads of House were with her in a jiffy and quickly reattached the fingernails, but Greta looked distinctly unimpressed. Which was how the rest of us felt about Wilkie Twycross and his Three Ds, we were sick to death of them and thought there had to be a better way of teaching the difficult process of Apparition.

Once the lesson was over I discovered Remus wanted to talk to me. “All right, Laura?”

I looked at him. “How’s tricks, Remus?”

“Pretty good, pretty good,” he said, smiling as he fell into step beside me on our way back to the castle. “Look, the gang and I were wondering …” He trailed off, apparently unsure how to proceed.

“Yes?”

“Well, do you remember how our birthdays are only three or four days apart?”

“That’s right,” I said, remembering the conversation back before Christmas.

“Well,” he said again, “we’re both turning seventeen this year, and the gang wanted to throw me a party and I figured, since it’s your birthday at the same time, did you want to make it a joint party?”

The boys from our year were justifiably famous for their parties. I was never sure how they did it but they always managed to provide copious supplies from not only the Hogwarts kitchens but also from Hogsmeade, both the sweet shop and the pub. And at least one of them must have had a substantial music collection because the gramophone generally went all night, thankfully without a bar of Celestina Warbeck’s grating ballads to be heard. The parties were held in the common room so everyone in Gryffindor House was invited, and if one of the boys was dating someone from another House they were welcome too, though obviously they had to be physically let through the portrait hole as they didn’t know our password.

I considered his invitation. I hadn’t even thought about my birthday yet, let alone whether to throw a party or not. This was certainly a better offer than any others I might receive. “That’d be great,” I said, smiling again. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” He looked pleased. “They’re talking about the Saturday night the weekend following, which I think is the twelfth. The idea is to wait until we actually are of age, so that if we get caught drinking it’s less of an issue.”

That was logical. “Right. Just let me know what you want me to do for it,” I said, wanting to pull my weight.

“Ah, don’t worry about that. They’re old pros at throwing parties now, they’ll have it all in hand. Just make sure you bring the rest of the girls.”

I laughed. “Let me guess. James’ orders?”

“How did you know? Yes, Prongs wanted to be sure I’d ask you that. Something to do with a certain redhead, I believe.”

“No worries,” I said. “I’ll make sure Lily’s there.”

Remus grinned again and, turning around to look at the group following us, gave James, Sirius and Peter the thumbs up. James beamed at me. “Thanks, Cauldwell,” I heard him call out.

As I turned back I spied some early daffodils and made a quick detour to pick one. I was rather fond of daffodils – ordinary ones, not the honking ones Professor Sprout grew in the school greenhouses – and always appreciated the colour they brought to the dorm. Unfortunately this meant I was late getting back inside, and managed to walk almost headfirst into an irate Argus Filch, who glowered at my snow-covered boots.

“What’s this?” he asked. “Tracking snow through the castle! I’ve got a mind to give you a detention for this!”

I looked at him in surprise – I hadn’t realised wet footprints were a punishable offence. Unfortunately just then Sirius also appeared through a door just by the Great Hall, and he obviously considered Filch a good subject for parody. As the caretaker remonstrated about my apparently deplorable behaviour, Sirius stood behind him and made faces based on what he was saying – rolling his eyes at one statement, waving a derisive finger around his ear at another. Eventually I cracked: Sirius was just too funny and I couldn’t concentrate on Filch at all, and I stood there shaking with silent laughter as the caretaker finished his vent and eventually decided I needn’t be formally punished, before ducking into the small chamber where they keep the first-years waiting to be Sorted and laughing out loud.

Sirius joined me in the dusty room. “What’s up?” he asked innocently, as though he’d had nothing to do with my behaviour.

“ _You’re_ what’s up,” I said, trying unsuccessfully to be stern. “Making those faces – how was I supposed to concentrate with you doing _that_ over his shoulder?”

“Well, with that tripe he was spouting, what was I supposed to do?” he asked as we checked Filch had in fact disappeared before heading back into the castle proper. “Getting in trouble for a bit of snow on your boots? I’d hate to see his face when James comes back from Quidditch practice sometimes. Actually, strike that, I’d _love_ to see his face when James comes back from Quidditch practice, it’d be priceless.”

I had the giggles by now and couldn’t stop laughing even if I wanted to. “How on earth does he deal with Peeves?” I managed to get out. “I saw him dropping Dungbombs on some unsuspecting first-years the other day.”

“He doesn’t,” Sirius said. “Only the Bloody Baron can control Peeves.”

“But the Bloody Baron doesn’t clean up after him. Maybe we should just add Peeves’ name to that list on Filch’s door of things that are banned in the castle – that should do the trick, shouldn’t it? I mean, it works so well for everything else.”

He laughed. “I like that idea. Though for good measure we should probably put James and I down as well, don’t you think?”

I giggled again. “You said it, not me. I won’t be held responsible for anything to do with you lot.”

****

The first Hogsmeade visit of 1977 was scheduled for February nineteenth, as we were duly informed when the notices went up the next day. Most of the sixth-years were looking forward to it immensely, whether to just get out of the castle for a spell, or to stock up on whatever supplies they were running low on, be they from Zonko’s, Honeydukes or Gladrags. My expectations for the day, however, changed significantly in the library on the Saturday afternoon a week beforehand.

I was sitting quietly on my own at one of the tables out of direct sight of Madam Pince, the librarian. Not that I was up to anything untoward, but she was so protective of the library books that if I breathed on them the wrong way she might come up and try to confiscate them. Hence a more secluded table. On it I had my Ancient Runes homework, an inkwell and some quills, three or four piles of textbooks, and my Rune Dictionary.

Suddenly I was aware of another person at my table. Scowling slightly and ruing the loss of my personal space, I looked up and saw Bertram Aubrey, seventh-year Hufflepuff.

“Mind if I sit down?” he asked.

“Go for it,” I said, gathering my books more tightly around me so he would have more room. I looked through them and found my copy of _Advanced Rune Translation_.

He sat down but didn’t pull out any homework or books, just sat watching me. It was distinctly unnerving. Finally I gave in and looked him straight in the face.

“Can I help you?” It probably sounded somewhat rude but I didn’t know what else to say.

He hesitated, rocking from side to side on his chair. Finally he spoke. “It’s Laura Cauldwell, right?”

“That’s right,” I said, trying to keep my voice friendly while I assessed him. He was a nice looking boy without being stunning. Average height, so two or three inches taller than me, short dark hair, dark eyes, slightly uneven teeth and a few freckles, bit of a stocky build, but overall a decent package.

“Right,” he said. “This is awkward … I’m Bertram Aubrey.” He extended a hand for me to shake.

“Nice to meet you,” I said, although I knew precisely who he was. Like most schools, you tended to know the kids in the years above you much better than those in the years below, and Bertram had also been a Beater on the Hufflepuff Quidditch team a couple of years previously. Which would account for the stocky build, now I thought about it.

“Right,” he said again, plainly uneasy. “Um, Laura, would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me in a couple of weeks?”

My jaw dropped open in shock. Was Bertram Aubrey asking me out? Me? When someone like Lily Evans was single? Fortunately I recovered before I caught any flies in my mouth.

“Thanks, Bertram, that would be lovely,” I said, forcing a smile onto my face.

He looked so relieved it was almost funny. “Great,” he beamed. “I’ll come and see you next week to work out the details.” And with that he stood up and virtually danced out of the library, leaving me feeling an interesting combination of confused and rather pleased.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has caught people out on the other sites, so I'd like to mention that _Hairy Snout, Human Heart_ is a canon book that was published around this time. When I saw that on the Lexicon, it was too good not to use. Cheers!


	19. The effects of Hogsmeade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life starts getting much more interesting – well, as far as Laura is concerned, at least.

Mary was delighted when I sought her out to tell her what had happened. “Finally,” she said, beaming at me. “Aboot time ye go’ yerself a man an’ all.”

“I’ve had boyfriends before,” I protested. “How about Cadmus in fourth year?”

“Man, I said, no’ boy. Cadmus, a’ leas’ in fourth year, was definitely a boy.”

She had me there. There was a big difference between Cadmus Bragge as a fourth-year and Bertram Aubrey as a seventh-year.

“Fair point,” I said. “And you don’t mind me abandoning you for Hogsmeade like that?”

“No’ a’ all. So long as ye’ve go’ some decent gossip t’ tell me once ye ge’ back. I wan’ all the gruesome details.”

She didn’t even have to wait that long. The following Monday was Valentine’s Day, and Bertram surprised me at breakfast with a bouquet of roses and a box of Honeydukes’ finest. Not totally original, I know, but I appreciated the gesture. And it was years since I’d received anything at all on Valentine’s Day, so I intended to make the most of it.

Bertram, it turned out, was a bit of a romantic. He had clearly decided that for Valentine’s Day he was going to woo me (for want of a better word), and he pulled out all the stops. Not only was it the bouquet and chocolates at breakfast time, but at lunch he insisted on taking me out on a broom ride around the grounds with him, culminating in a private party on top of the Astronomy Tower, where he had earlier hidden some butterbeer, treacle tart and, for decoration, some everlasting icicles.

“This is amazing,” I whispered, awestruck someone would go to that much trouble for little old me.

“You’re worth it,” he whispered back, his face inches from mine.

“But you hardly know me,” I siad, not quite sure why I seemed to be trying to ruin the moment.

“We’ll have to fix that then.” And with that, he kissed me.

Wow. Mary had been right. There was a huge difference between fourteen year old Cadmus and eighteen year old Bertram. This was spot on, this was amazing, this was surely not happening to me?  I put my arms around his neck and pulled him in closer.

It was definitely a shame to have to go to double Charms that afternoon, but go I did, missing Bertram with every fibre of my being. Which was quite an achievement, considering I’d barely known him that morning when I went down to breakfast. However, true to form, he was waiting for me in the Entrance Hall as soon as classes were over, and whisked me into a disused classroom not far from the Great Hall, where we picked up where we had left off in the lunch break.

When we made it in to supper, both probably looking rather dishevelled as we headed towards the Gryffindor table, I couldn’t help but notice not everyone had had as good a Valentine’s Day as I had. Mary had sat down with Lily as the only two single girls in our year, and they appeared to be the only sixth-years (aside from me) who were happy with their situation.

Charlotte, sitting with the Ravenclaws with Hector, was looking over at the Gryffindor table where Remus sat – plainly she was still keen on him and he was either ignoring it or completely ignorant of it. Martha, with Al Jorkins at the Hufflepuff table, was looking distracted and playing randomly with her hair, a sure sign she was getting restless. James was gazing at Lily, pretending not to notice that the necklace he had sent her still lay unwanted on the table where she had tossed it aside that morning. Sirius, with Clio at the Gryffindor table, had a decidedly sour look on his face and was scowling at the roast beef when Bertram and I sat down. Remus was concentrating steadfastly on the shepherd’s pie on his plate, which made me suspect he did know about Charlotte and was trying to pretend he didn’t. And Peter was gazing wistfully at the Hufflepuff table where the current object of his affections, Leda Minchum (who ironically was a member of the Sirius Black fan club), was making a point of ignoring him.

However, I was far too distracted to give any of this much thought. My week got better and better as Bertram continued to shower me with attention and affection, though again even I couldn’t help but notice not everyone was as happy as I was. An example of this was that Friday when we were grouped outside the Ancient Runes classroom waiting for the door to open: Clio Zeller was raving to Veronica Smethley, who I had defended from Maggie Flint a couple of months previously.

“I swear, he’s driving me crazy,” she said hotly. “He’s been in a foul mood for days, and I’ve got no idea what I’ve done to make him like this. Or if it’s anything I’ve done at all. I’m not sure if I even want to spend the day with him tomorrow.”

She was obviously talking about Sirius. It was impossible not to notice his bad mood: he’d been glowering at people all week, his temper on a very short fuse, and no less a person than James had been heard wondering out loud what the matter was. Even I had noticed his increasing tendency to hex people for no apparent good reason – with more than one student ending up with antennae or something similar – and it was putting it mildly to say I’d been rather preoccupied, what with my new boyfriend and all. I was also vaguely aware he was going back to his old behaviour towards me: that is, barely acknowledging I existed. The special treatment of the past month, it seemed, had been an aberration.

“If he’s that bad, tell him,” said Veronica. “It might give him a kick up the bum. Half the boys in this school would kill to be going out with you, and if he doesn’t appreciate it then you might be better off rid of him.”

Personally I thought that was stretching it – Clio was a pretty girl, but I wouldn’t have put her on the same level as Lily, Martha or Charlotte, and I was pretty sure Sirius didn’t count himself lucky to have her. As Martha had said, it just seemed to be something to do when he got bored, as far as he was concerned at least. However, it wasn’t my place to say anything, so I stayed quiet. Remus, the only other Gryffindor to be studying Ancient Runes at NEWT level, gave me half a smile and raised an eyebrow as I caught his eye and I grinned, feeling rather conspiratorial all of a sudden.

****

On the morning of the Hogsmeade visit I camped out in front of the mirror in a vain attempt to make my hair go straight. No matter what I tried, though, the obstinate kink refused to disappear, meaning I just couldn’t get it to look how I wanted it to.

Martha had noticed. She of course had perfect hair, hair just like I wanted, and didn’t even have to think about it. However, she also had a good heart. “Have you tried this? It’s bound to work,” she said, producing a bottle of Sleekeazy's Hair Potion.

I laughed. “Giving the Potters even more gold, are you, Martha?” It was an open secret that James’ family had made their fortune by inventing the potion, which worked on almost anything. “In any case, yes, and no it didn’t work.”

She looked incredulous. “Are you sure? It even works on Charlotte, it’ll have to work on you.

I let her slather liberal amounts of the potion on my mousy brown hair to try to straighten it out. Only when we had used what felt like half the bottle, to no avail, did she concede defeat. “Tell you what, Laura, that hair of yours sure is stubborn,” she said. “This is the strongest stuff on the market, it works on anything.”

“Yep. Anything but my hair. I’m doomed to be kinky.” Then I giggled, realising how that had sounded.

Martha shot me a wicked grin. “You never know, maybe Bertram likes them kinky.”

Accepting my hair for the lost cause it was, I finished getting ready and joined the rest of the girls as they headed downstairs.

The Hogsmeade visit coincided with an Apparition lesson, which were going remarkably well really. In fact, by the time we’d had three or four classes many of the students were beginning to get the hang of it. To no one’s surprise James and Sirius were the first to master it, successfully Apparating into their hoops by the end of the second lesson, a by-product of being the smartest in the year. (Why were they not in Ravenclaw? That made _no_ sense.) The most dramatic occurrence this particular day was Thalia Strout Splinching herself, which meant not all of her body went to the ‘desired destination’ – this had also happened to Greta Catchlove in the first lesson but to a much lesser degree, with Thalia managing to detach both an arm and a leg from the rest of her. There was a huge amount of blood and she was surrounded by the Heads of House and Madam Pomfrey, who put her back together within seconds, but she was rather pale after that and took no further part in the session. Despite that distraction, however, we were all starting to feel more confident about the task at hand and with any luck would actually pass the test when it was time to sit it.

Anyway, Bertram waited patiently for the lesson to finish so he could escort me into the village. And that was what it felt like, being escorted. Ever the romantic, he offered me his arm as I exited the Great Hall after the lesson, and all the way down the main drive I held it like I was going to a dance or something.

The surreal feeling extended when I asked what he had in mind for the day. While I didn’t mind being romanced, I did like having some awareness of what was happening. Bertram, however, had other ideas. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about that,” he said. “I’ve got a grand day planned out.”

Well. That could mean anything. I didn’t like the sound of the ‘pretty little head’ comment, though, it felt almost like I was being treated as a lesser being or something. Bertram clearly didn’t understand me very well at all, and I was a little worried about what he thought I would enjoy.

My worst fears were confirmed when he steered me into a little teashop just off the high street. Called Madam Puddifoot’s, it was the most revolting place I had ever been in in my entire life. It was crammed full of little round two-person tables, with frilly tablecloths and lace doilies covering them, and the floral décor was almost overwhelming. It also had a really stuffy feel to it, like the windows were never opened. A Celestina Warbeck song, which to me sounded rather like a cat being strangled, was playing in the background.

The place seemed to be a haunt for courting couples, though I was guessing most of the boys in there had been dragged in by their girlfriends, going by their expressions. For example, Sirius and Clio were near the back of the room and he certainly wasn’t there by choice if his face was any indication. I made a mental note to thank Cadmus one day, as not once during our little dalliance in fourth year had he even suggested we set foot inside.

Bertram found us a table near a window, which was a saving grace as it meant at least I could look outside – the closeness of the interior was making me a little claustrophobic. As it was now getting towards the end of February the snow had disappeared and a grey wetness had replaced it so the view from the window wasn’t outstanding but, as I said, it beat looking around inside.

Bertram ordered two coffees, and it occurred to me that it was fortunate I liked coffee because he hadn’t actually asked me what I wanted. _Not a good sign_ , I reflected uneasily.

“Have you been here before?” he asked, taking my hand from his seat across the little round table. It was so small his knees were knocking against mine, though I suspected that might have been deliberate on his part.

“No, I haven’t,” I said truthfully, choosing not to add, ‘and I hope to never come here again’. He might be offended if I said that.

A waitress brought our drinks, served in delicate china cups, complete with saucers, with roses painted on them. They looked like something my grandmother would have.

“It’s lovely, isn’t it,” he said enthusiastically, holding up the vase on the table for me to sniff the roses contained therein. “Such a great place for couples.”

“It’s very – pretty,” I said, again being truthful, though I was being deliberately obtuse. I usually didn’t like pretty things very much; my taste was much simpler.

“You’re very pretty,” he said. “You’re beautiful.”

I felt rather awkward, having considered myself ordinary for so long I was having trouble getting my head around someone thinking I was beautiful, but fortunately Mum had taught me how to take compliments even if I didn’t believe them. “Thanks,” I said, smiling, and hoping he wouldn’t mind if I took my hand out of his so I could drink my coffee.

“I’ve fancied you for ages,” he went on, “but I didn’t know how to talk to you. You always seemed so aloof.”

My surprise got the better of me. “Really? I didn’t realise I was aloof.”

“You’re probably not, but you looked it sometimes. Maybe it’s something to do with those high cheekbones. You look almost regal.”

Regal was not a word I would ever have thought of to describe myself, but if he wanted to see me like that I wasn’t going to argue. “Thank you,” I said again. This was definitely good for the ego. Maybe he really did think I was beautiful. I managed to extricate my hand from his and wrapped both hands around my china cup, feeling its warmth penetrate me. The stuffiness of the room made me feel almost hot but I ignored it, concentrating on my drink.

“I knew if I didn’t ask you out now, I never would,” Bertram said, grabbing my hand again and kissing it. “I’m leaving here in a few months, I might never see you again.”

I hadn’t thought of it like that, hadn’t thought of where the seventh-years would go once June was over. “That’s true,” I said. “You’d know where I was, but I wouldn’t have a clue where you were. Damn age gaps!”

He smiled, which made his face light up and his brown eyes sparkle. “Good thing I got the guts up, then, isn’t it?” he asked, stroking my palm in a rather seductive way. I’m almost ashamed to say I gave a little moan – this was more like it.

A couple knocking our table on their way out interrupted our reverie. There wasn’t much space in between the tables so we didn’t really mind, but it did pull us out of our romantic haze. The couple in question, Sirius and Clio, seemed to be having a bit of a row.

“I don’t know what it is that I’ve done, the least you could do is tell me,” Clio snapped.

Sirius was scowling again, his bad mood obviously not improved. “I’ve told you, I don’t know,” he said sharply. “It might not even be about you. And if you’d just leave me alone for a bit I might work it out. But no, you keep on harping and harping, you’re making it worse.”

Bertram raised his eyebrows at me as they filed out the door. “Trouble in paradise?”

“Beats me,” I said, shrugging. “He’s been in a shocking mood for days. Makes classes quieter ’cause he’s not acting up as much. But she’s in your House, you might know more than I do.”

“No idea,” he said, then frowned suddenly. “Didn’t you have a thing with him at some stage?”

I laughed. “Don’t tell me you actually believed that. We did a detention together and then all of a sudden word was out we were having this sordid affair. I thought it was hilarious.”

“So it didn’t happen?” He looked a little anxious.

“Definitely not. That’s the sort of thing I think I would have remembered.”

He smiled. “Truly? I must say I’m relieved.”

“Why’s that?”

“You’re too good for him,” he said, kissing my hand. “But you’ve spilled your coffee!” he added, noticing the small puddle in my saucer. It must have spilled when the table was knocked. “Let me get you another one.”

“It’s okay,” I said. “Really, I’d almost finished, it doesn’t matter.” Actually I’d barely started, but I wasn’t keen to stay there any longer than was absolutely necessary. Bertram hadn’t distracted me enough to block out Celestina Warbeck’s incessant warbling, and it was so stuffy I was starting to feel like I couldn’t breathe. Outside our window Sirius and Clio continued their spat, which appeared to end when Clio went storming off in the rain towards Gladrags and Sirius, hands deep in his pockets and a filthy look on his face, shuffled off in the other direction.

Bertram eventually cottoned on and we left Madam Puddifoot’s soon afterwards, him casting an Impervius Charm on me to keep the rain off. Our next stop was Honeydukes, where he bought me a large supply of coffee fudge, sugar quills and peppermint toads. I felt a little awkward about him paying for everything – after all, I did have some gold of my own – but he insisted that on a proper date, the man should buy everything. Oh well, if he was going to be so insistent, who was I to argue?

I was so distracted by Bertram I barely noticed the shabby stalls holding shonky amulets and the like that were appearing throughout Hogsmeade just as they were in Diagon Alley, though one stall-holder tried to talk Bertram into buying me a talisman that would apparently ward off werewolves. Yeah, right, I’d credit that when I saw it actually happening. The stone itself was pretty, amber-coloured and oddly luminous, but I thought it was probably glass rather than anything more valuable. Needless to say, there was no sale.

After a good lunch and a few butterbeers at the Three Broomsticks, Bertram led me to a secluded corner just beyond the owl office. The rain had stopped and puddles had formed all along the high street, but he had managed to find a spot the rain hadn’t got to, and so was still dry and well out of the wind. “If we could just stop here for a bit,” he whispered to me, his mouth going from my ear to brush over my jawbone before kissing my neck. I got tingles all over and pulled him closer, losing myself in the moment.

We stayed there for a length of time that could have been five minutes or five hours, we were so preoccupied. Eventually we realised it was past the time we should have been heading back to school, so reluctantly we re-arranged ourselves and walked back, arm in arm, to the Hogwarts gates.

****

Mary was in the common room talking to a boy who looked vaguely familiar when I finally got back to Gryffindor Tower, Bertram and I having taken a side trip to a deserted corridor after Filch had inspected us for banned objects and ticked us off his list as having returned. She got my attention as soon as I climbed through the portrait hole and, waving briefly at the boy, dragged me upstairs to the dorm.

“The girls all wan’ the goss,” she said on the way up. “An’ then we’ve go’ goss t’ share wi’ you.”

Obediently I allowed myself to be led into the dorm where the other girls were indeed waiting. “So?” said Lily immediately as I entered the room. “How was your day?”

“Pretty good,” I smiled, remembering. Then I frowned. “Aside from the start, though. That was disastrous. I thought the rest of the day could be awful.”

“What happened?” asked Charlotte.

“Have you ever been to a place called Madam Puddifoot’s?” I asked.

Mary screamed with laughter. “He took ye t’ _Madam Puddifoot’s_?? Merlin’s beard, I though’ the lad had ye worked oot a’ leas’ a wee bit!”

The other three were also laughing. “Yeah,” said Martha, “if anyone is absolutely NOT someone who would like that place, it’s you.”

“Far too girly,” Lily said. “Oh Laura, I can just see you in lace and frills and bows and florals!”

“Not to mention good old Celestina being piped through,” I said, shuddering. “Fortunately he got the hint fairly early on. My coffee got spilled when Clio and Sirius stormed out, they were having a fight and one of them knocked our table on the way past, and I talked him into not getting me another one, so we left instead. And then it got distinctly better from then on.”

“Go on,” Charlotte prompted.

“We went to Honeydukes,” I said, “where he spent a tidy sum on a lot of things which are bound to expand my waistline. Lunch at the Three Broomsticks, that was nice. And then he found a secluded corner near the owl office, out of the rain, where we just kinda whiled away the afternoon.”

Mary looked at me astutely. “Meanin’, ye came up fer air approximately three times in as many hours?”

I grinned. “Something like that. And then we realised it was time to come back to school. So we came back and Filch poked and prodded us and signed us off, having a whinge in the process because we were late, and then we hid in the Transfiguration corridor for a bit, you know, to finish off what we were doing before we came back, and then I came up here.” My cheeks were burning so much, I was probably looking rather like a Quaffle by now.

“Your clothes look intact,” said Martha, scrutinising me. “You covered that up well.”

“Goodness, Martha, we didn’t get that far!” I protested, not sure if I should be insulted at the suggestion or not. “We kept it all very proper, all stuff I wouldn’t mind writing home about. Well – maybe not all of it, but most of it.”

Mary was still looking at me shrewdly, and Charlotte was grinning.

“Well, Mary had a good day,” said Lily, changing the subject. I looked at Mary, surprised – she’d hidden it well. Unless it had something to do with the boy I’d seen her talking to downstairs?

“Ye know Marcus Ogden?” she asked slyly. Yep, that was him – hearing the name brought it back to me. He was a burly seventh-year who was Keeper on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. “Well, we sor’ o’ ran into each other a’ the Three Broomsticks, an’, er, we ended up gettin’ t’ know each other pretty well an’ all.”

Lily was smiling broadly. “Of course, she left me in the lurch, she couldn’t run off with him fast enough. Oh, don’t worry,” she said to Mary who had started to apologise, “I don’t blame you in the slightest. I would have done exactly the same thing.”

“You mean if it was Marcus, or if it was James?” asked Charlotte, trying without success to suppress a smile. Lily blushed furiously and refused to answer.

“No one saw Mary or Marcus for the rest of the afternoon,” said Martha, grinning wickedly. “Poor old Gerry Stebbins looked heartbroken.” Mary smiled and even looked a little sadistic, and I wondered if the concept of annoying Gerry had any bearing on her decision to go off with Marcus in the first place. “Nor did we see Charlotte or Hector,” Martha continued, winking at Charlotte.

“We were around,” Charlotte said defensively, taking her glasses off and polishing them with her shirt. “You just can’t have looked very hard.”

“Oh, I looked hard enough,” Martha said. “Al and I had a huge fight, I think we might have broken up, so I was definitely looking for you.”

“It’s all right, she found _me_ ,” Lily told Charlotte; she had found her voice again. “Martha seemed okay with it, didn’t you Martha?” We all looked at Martha, who definitely did not look heartbroken, and if anything seemed relieved.

“I’m fine,” she said. “To be honest I’d been looking to get out for a while now. He was starting to bore me.”

“Again?” asked Lily with an affectionate smile. “Sometimes I worry about you, Martha, you never give them long enough to grow on you.”

Martha shuddered dramatically. “Grow on me? Isn’t that something you go to Madam Pomfrey to get fixed?”

“All right, all right,” said Charlotte, shaking her head. “Anyway, Sirius is single again,” she went on with a grin, “so you could always go back to that old port.”

“What?” asked Mary, her blue eyes wide. “I hadn’ heard tha’!”

“That’s because you were off ‘getting to know’ Marcus,” said Lily, using her fingers as inverted commas for the ‘getting to know’ bit. “Apparently Sirius and Clio had the row to end all rows this morning and she stormed off to find solace with someone else.”

“Yeah, Sebastian Quirke,” Martha said contemptuously. “Didn’t take her long to move on.”

“That must have been the fight I saw at Madam Puddifoot’s,” I said. “Whatever it was about, they continued it outside for a good five minutes and then took off in different directions. Both drenched to the skin. It was pretty funny, actually.”

“It was probably because she took him to Madam Puddifoot’s,” Martha laughed. “I can’t see Sirius there any more than I can see you there, Laura.”

“From the looks of most of the boys in there, they didn’t want to be there any more than I did,” I said fairly. “And they didn’t break up with whoever they were with over it.”

“She thought that filthy mood he’s been in was her fault,” said Lily, who was now stroking Mary’s cat. “I heard her complaining about it in the toilets the other day.”

“Yeah, she was saying that in Ancient Runes,” I said. “And come to think of it, she did yell something of the sort to him this morning.”

“What did he say?” asked Charlotte. “Last I heard, no one knew why he was so pissed off, not even James.”

I paused, thinking. I hadn’t paid much attention to it, actually – from memory Bertram had chosen that moment to start trying to seduce me. “I think he said he didn’t know what it was,” I said after a spell. “That if she let him be for a bit he would work it out, but she kept on at him all the time and it was making it worse. I wasn’t really paying that much notice, though,” I added apologetically.

“Too busy concentratin’ o’ other things?” asked Mary.

“That sounds about right,” I said, returning her smile.

“So, Martha,” Lily said playfully, “what do you think? Will you and Sirius pick up where you left off?”

Martha laughed. “I don’t think so, Lils. I’d have to deal with good old Elvira and the fan club again, and I feel like I’m getting too old for that sort of crap. Besides, there’s plenty of talent at this school who don’t have their own fan clubs, just waiting for me to find them.” She smiled mischievously.

“Uh oh,” said Charlotte ominously. “Martha Hornby’s on the prowl again. Lock up your brothers!”

“At this point,” Martha said, “I’m thinking any bloke who’s halfway decent looking, is taller than me, and is mature enough not to refer to me as ‘Martha Horny’, will fit the bill.” We laughed; we’d all heard that particular nickname of Martha’s, which was bestowed not because of her reputation, which was actually rather good, but because teenaged boys liked any excuse to make dirty jokes and her surname was unfortunately made for it. When that had started was one of the few times I was actually glad I was a Cauldwell.

“Mature?” asked Lily with a grin. “Well, I guess that definitely rules out Sirius, then.”

“I’m sure Avery will tak’ ye on,” Mary smirked.

Martha shuddered. “Remember the rule, no Slytherins,” she said, smiling grimly. “Anyway, there’s your party coming up, Laura, I might just see who looks willing there.”


	20. Coming of age

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Turning seventeen is a big deal in Potterverse, and Laura has a most interesting time of it.

The next two weeks were blur of classes, homework and Bertram. I was blissfully happy and far too preoccupied to pay much attention to anything else, barely even noticing for example that Lily went home for a weekend to see her mum – I’d found someone who thought I was beautiful and treated me like a queen, and what more could any girl want? I was even only vaguely aware March had arrived and I would soon have a birthday to think about – until the day itself, of course.

The morning in question revealed a larger pile of gifts at the end of my bed than I had expected. “Wow,” I said. “Would you look at this?”

“So, what have you got?” Martha asked, tying up my bed hangings so everyone could see in.

An owl hovered at the window, tapping on the glass. Mary let it in and I opened the letter, which was from Mum. “Oh, look – Wales beat England in the rugby yesterday!” I grinned broadly at Lily, the only English person in the room with Muggle blood.

“Damn it,” she said, making a face. “Not that I really follow rugby, but …”

“Hey, they’re giving me the owl that brought this letter!” I looked at the brown tawny owl, which was now sitting on the post of Charlotte’s bed. “How beautiful! What should I call it?”

Martha, who was good with animals, coaxed it over to have a look. “It’s female. Maybe a Welsh goddess or something?”

I thought about that. “Branwen? Murigen? Cerridwyn?”

“Definitely Cerridwyn,” Lily said. “She just looks like a Cerridwyn, don’t you think?”

After the excitement of Cerridwyn, I went through the rest of the gifts. Soon the end of my bed was piled with some bottles of elderflower wine, which I intended to donate to the party the following weekend, perfume, photo frames, and a gorgeous paisley shirt, all from various family members on Dad’s side. (Mum’s family, being Muggles, wouldn’t recognise my coming of age until the following year.) Bea, who didn’t usually remember birthdays, had sent a box of owl treats for Cerridwyn.

The other girls had got together and bought some lacy lingerie, which they insinuated would be useful in the coming months with Bertram. The boys surprised me by giving me a box of Honeydukes chocolates, probably only because I was sharing a party with Remus, which meant I would have to get him something too. As for Bertram, he outdid himself by giving me a full length cloak, red velvet and embroidered with phoenixes and other fabulous birds, with semiprecious stones dotted throughout. It was undoubtedly expensive and quite possibly a one-off, but it was also rather gaudy and ostentatious and I didn’t actually like it very much.

Finally there was one parcel left, small and delicately wrapped, with no note. Part of me hesitated at this – in this day and age, packages with no card were potentially dangerous – so I asked the other girls what they thought I should do.

“Maybe it’s from Bertram,” said Charlotte, ever the romantic.

“I don’t think so. This one was Bertram’s, look.” I indicated the cloak. “I wouldn’t think he could afford something else as well.”

Lily was looking at the parcel, her brow furrowed. “It’s probably okay, but we might try this just in case. _Specialis revelio_ ,” she said, tapping it with her wand. Nothing happened. “Well, that should have shown us if there are any spells on it. Do you want to open it?”

Trusting Lily’s judgement, I unwrapped the package. It contained a golden clasp, elegantly engraved with daffodils. Looking at the workmanship, it had to be goblin-made, and was therefore probably expensive.

There were gasps from around the room. “It’s beautiful!” said Martha, leaning over me to get a closer look. “Who’d give you that?”

“No idea,” I said.

“Daffodils,” said Mary, smiling. “Whoever it is knows ye.”

I turned it over, admiring it. Engraved in tiny writing were the words, _Dear Laura, Congratulations on your coming of age_ , with a strange symbol below I didn’t recognise. Probably it was the goblin mark, but I wasn’t sure as I’d never had anything goblin-made before.

After we had all admired the clasp, Charlotte took over. “Well, it’s all very nice,” she said, trying to wrest it from my grip, “but we should make doubly sure it _isn’t_ jinxed. We’d best give it to McGonagall to check. After all, you are a half-blood, and your dad definitely meets the definition of a blood traitor, so you could be a target.”

I knew she was right and released the clasp reluctantly. It truly was beautiful, and I hoped I could get it back soon as it would look perfect on my school robes. Or my winter cloak. Or the cloak Bertram had just given me (if I ever wore it). Or my dress robes … you get the idea. And I also hoped sincerely that whoever had bought it would one day let me know so I could thank them.

We took the clasp to Professor McGonagall at breakfast, explaining it had arrived anonymously. I wasn’t sure if I was pleased or disappointed when she agreed it should be examined – I was torn between wanting to keep it and wanting to feel verified in my concerns about it. She put it in her pocket and advised me she would let me know once all testing was completed.

****

Bertram made a big show of wanting to take me out for my birthday, but as we couldn’t leave the school grounds he was somewhat impeded in his efforts. In the end he just took me up to the Astronomy Tower for a moonlight picnic. There were a couple of close calls with Flich’s cat (which was rather oddly named Mrs Clay and seemed to have a psychic connection with him) and with Peeves on the way, but we managed to make it to the tower without getting caught.

In keeping with the spirit of the day I wore my new perfume and the fancy cloak he’d bought me – see, I did wear it! – and donated some of my Honeydukes chocolates and elderflower wine to the picnic hamper, which went very well with the supply of sandwiches and puddings he had managed to procure from the kitchens.

“Happy birthday, Laura,” he whispered, his hands reaching underneath my shirt and inching upwards.

“Thank you,” I said as he started kissing my neck. This really was a most agreeable way to spend a birthday, I decided.

We snogged for a while, but eventually came to the conclusion that oxygen might be a good idea and broke apart, opting instead to sit together under the stars with a glass of wine and some treacle tart, my new cloak wrapped around both of us to keep the wind out.

“It’s been a lovely birthday, Bertram,” I said as he poured me another drink.

“A lovely day for a lovely girl. I did the best I could.”

“And I appreciate that. But I’m a bit worried that if we don’t go soon we’ll fall asleep up here.”

He gave me a squeeze. “And that’s a bad thing? I think I’d like to wake up and have your face the first thing I see.”

I laughed. “Not if I’ve slept in my makeup, you won’t. Panda eyes aren’t much of a look on anyone. Besides, the floor up here isn’t really all that comfortable.”

“I can’t argue with that,” he said, changing position slightly and illustrating my point. Beneath us, I could hear the Bloody Baron clunking away as he often did in the Astronomy Tower, so in any case it seemed we would have to stay on the battlements for a little while longer at least.

“Besides,” I went on, shivering as I pulled the cloak closer around us, “it’s freezing up here, and it’s not going to get any warmer.”

He accepted defeat. “All right, my lady, can I escort you downstairs?”

“Once the Bloody Baron shuts up,” I said with a smile as I kissed his cheek. “Thanks, Bertram, I’d appreciate that.”

About twenty minutes later all sounds that might have been caused by the Baron seemed to have stopped, so we packed up our things and Bertram led me down to the seventh floor, my new cloak securely fastened around me.

It was so late Fat Lady scolded me for waking her up and the common room looked deserted when I got inside. I almost didn’t see the lone figure on the sofa in front of the fire, and it was only when he spoke that I realised he was there at all.

“Nice cloak,” he said with undisguised sarcasm. “Who are you supposed to be, Cliodna or Morgana?”

Going by the birds on the cloak – which of course I was only wearing to humour Bertram – this was plainly a reference to two well-known bird Animagi: Morgana was a dark witch who used her powers for evil, whereas Cliodna had three fabulous birds she used to heal the sick. So the question was really, was I good or evil?

“Oh, hi Sirius,” I said, stifling a yawn. “I think at the moment I’m Morgana, because if you try to stop me going to bed I’m going to hex you into oblivion.”

“Why out so late, then?” he asked, putting down the magazine he was reading. Well, it looked like he was talking to me again, but then again his bad mood had also settled down so there was most probably a connection between the two.

I yawned again. “Bertram wanted to take me out for my birthday.”

“Oh, right, that was today wasn’t it?” he said, his gaze sharpening a little. “Happy birthday.”

I smiled unenthusiastically. “Thanks.” I was turning towards the girls’ stairs again when he spoke again.

“That’s why you’re wearing that hideous cloak, isn’t it? Because he gave it to you?”

That was a bit perceptive for someone like him, but I wasn’t about to reward him by admitting it was true. “It’s not hideous,” I said defensively, wrapping it more closely around myself. “But yes, he did give it to me.”

He just raised an eyebrow. “No, not hideous at all. You just keep telling yourself that.”

I turned again and headed for the stairs, but missed my footing and stumbled in my high heels. Sirius started laughing.

“Merlin’s beard, you’ve been drinking!” he said triumphantly.

I got defensive again. “So what if I have?” I asked, leaning against a nearby armchair. “It’s my birthday, I’m allowed to.”

He kept chuckling. “I never thought I’d catch you, of all people, stumbling in here after curfew, drunk.”

“Well, if you went to bed at a normal time like a normal person, you’d never have seen it. Why are you up so late anyway, sitting here by yourself?”

“Waiting for James. We had separate detentions and he’s not back from his yet. Penrose can keep you pretty late sometimes.”

“Right.” I tried to collect my thoughts. “What was this one for?”

“Being out after curfew. Last night. And we weren’t even drinking. Let that be a lesson to you.”

“What a surprise,” I said dully. “You two out on a Saturday night.” Then I thought of something and it was my turn to feel triumphant. “But I didn’t get caught.”

He held up a finger. “This time.”

I yawned again. “Remember what I said about hexing you to oblivion if you stopped me from going to bed? I haven’t forgotten that.” And I pulled out my wand just in case, wondering what jinx I should use on him. How would he look with cow horns, tail and a matching bell?

He laughed again, and it occurred to me he was way too chipper for that time of night. “You’re trying to figure out what you should do to me, aren’t you? I liked that one where you gave Snivellus a peacock’s tail just after Christmas. You can always do that.”

I shook my head. “Too pretty. It’d just be reinforcing stereotypes. I’d need to do something that makes you ugly. Warthog horns, perhaps.”

“Not a bad idea. Or tentacles, that’d do the same job.”

“Spider’s legs,” I said.

“Antlers.”

I groaned. “This is getting to be too much like hard work. It’s too late and I’m too tired. So I think I’ll just turn you into a teapot and be done with it.”

“Can it at least be a red and gold teapot? For Gryffindor, that is?” He looked at me hopefully.

I just shook my head. “You’re a nightmare, you know that?”

“Why, thank you,” he grinned. I raised my eyebrows. “Well, that was supposed to be a compliment, wasn’t it?”

I gave up. “I’ve had enough. I’m leaving. And just this once, because I’m knackered and my bed is calling me, I’ll leave you in one piece. But if you push me again …”

He raised his hand in mock salute. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll remember that.”

I shook my head again in resignation and wandered up the stairs to our dorm, throwing the cloak into the bottom of my trunk and collapsing onto my bed, not even bothering with brushing my teeth or washing my face. That was what mornings were for, I thought exhaustedly, and promptly fell asleep.

****

Mary came running into the dorm late one night later that week almost bursting with laughter. “Oh, ye will never _believe_ this,” she giggled, collapsing onto her bed.

Lily looked at her. “What is it?”

“Well,” said Mary, starting to giggle again, “I was jus’ up in Marcus’ dorm –” she paused, making sure she didn’t need to explain why – “an’ when I came back doon, I saw the sixth-year boys’ dorm door open. No’ much, jus’ a crack. Well, I stopped an’ had a peer through, bu’ no lamps were on an’ they were clearly no’ in there. So I though’ I’d, well, check it oot. I’m guessing tha’ wherever they are, they lef’ in a wee hurry – when I closed the door behin’ me after I’d done it squelched lik’ it’d bin _Colloportus_ ed, so I’d say they hadn’ meant t’ leave it open.”

Lily grinned maniacally, and Charlotte came in from the bathroom so quickly she tripped over her shoes, which were lying next to her trunk. This was big – even Martha, when she’d dated Sirius in fifth year, had never been inside their dorm. The revelation that they locked their door as a matter of course didn’t surprise us at all.

“Well?” Lily demanded. “What’s it like?”

“Mostly the usual gunk,” said Mary. “Ye know, clothes all o’er the floor, a couple o’ Gryffindor Quidditch flags on the wall, a handful o’ Quidditch posters, some pictures o’ bikini babes, some pictures from a Muggle magazine o’ those – what do ye call them, things wi’ two wheels tha’ go really fas’?”

“Motorbikes?” I suggested.

“Aye, tha’s it, motorbikes. I think those are Sirius’, bu’ I’m no’ sure. There’s a bi’ o’ a shrine t’ you, Lily, by what mus’ be James’ bed –”

Martha guffawed very inelegantly. “What sort of shrine?”

“A few pictures, I thing he mus’ have taken them wi’oot ye knowing, ye’re no’ lookin’ a’ the camera,” Mary said, looking at Lily. “I didn’ check under his pillow, though – maybe I shoul’ have.” She grinned mischievously and Lily looked rather embarrassed. “An’ he’s copied doon yer class schedule an’ written tha’ next t’ his own. It’s kind o’ cute, really. Oh, an’ there’s tha’ stupid Snitch he used t’ play wi’, tha’s stuck behin’ a wad o’ netting so it can’ escape.”

Lily rolled her eyes. “Good old James, always predictable,” she said, though her cheeks had gone rather pink and her mouth was twitching, trying to stop a smile.

“What else?” asked Charlotte.

“No’ much by Remus’ bed,” Mary said, winking at her, “jus’ what looks lik’ a family photo, the book he’s readin’, an ol’ lunascope an’ some other junk.” Mary paused. “By what I’m assuming was Peter’s bed, no’ much a’ all. A few schoolbooks, a broken quill or two, tha’ sort o’ thing. He was pretty messy, his trunk was open an’ his school robes were spilling oot the top. Actually, there were so many clothes on the floor in all, I’m surprised they can work oot whose are whose.”

“Anything else?” I asked, knowing her well enough to guess she was saving the best till last.

Mary grinned broadly. “This was the best bi’. There’s this huge banner on the wall, positioned so ye can’ see it from the stairwell, bu’ absolutely ruddy enormous. An’ it says ‘The Marauders’ Den’. ‘The Marauders’. Can ye believe it? They call themselves the sodding Marauders!”

Martha actually whooped with laughter. Mary, Lily and Charlotte were laughing so hard they had tears coming out of their eyes, and I had almost fallen off my bed.

“‘The Marauders’,” gasped Lily. “Only they would come up with that. What are they, plundering the castle or something?”

“Raiding it for contraband,” I giggled.

“I thought they _were_ the contraband,” Martha said.

“Well,” said Charlotte, trying to take control but not succeeding very well, “do we tell them we know, or not?”

“I say tell them,” I said, recovering my composure. “Not outright, though. Just let it slip one day.”

Martha was grinning wickedly. “I’m sure we can manage that. Just wait for the best time. But whoever does it,” she added, looking at all of us in turn, “has to do it when we’re all there, so we can see the reaction.”

“Deal,” said Lily, sticking out her hand for Martha to shake it. We all followed suit and went back to bed, laughing quietly to ourselves.

****

Saturday March twelfth was a cold, clear day, with the grey clouds we’d had all week dissipating and the sun coming out, making it look lovely outside. Some brave souls thought it actually was and wandered out during the afternoon but they soon came back inside, teeth chattering, arms wrapped around themselves in an attempt to warm up – they hadn’t taken the blistering March wind into account. We stayed indoors and tried to help the boys get the common room ready for the party that night.

Of course Remus was right, and they didn’t need our help at all. James and Sirius disappeared for a spell and came back with several cases of butterbeer and some Firewhisky, along with copious supplies from Honeydukes. We had no idea how they had managed to smuggle them back from Hogsmeade, with Filch’s Secrecy Sensors and the like looking for illicit goods, but were pleased they’d done so all the same. Peter also disappeared and returned with a huge basket of food from the kitchens, mostly pudding items but also some things like chicken legs and sandwiches to get us through the night.

Since we weren’t needed in Gryffindor Tower, and no one was in the mood to do homework, I found Bertram and suggested a lazy afternoon in a secluded corner somewhere. I can’t say we achieved much but it was certainly a very pleasant way of whiling away the hours.

When we emerged for dinner we found James, Sirius, Remus and Peter already in the Great Hall, wolfing down pork chops and chicken wings and talking over what arrangements still needed to be made. They looked up and waved cheerfully at me as we sat down at the Hufflepuff table.

Bertram eyed them doubtfully. “I don’t know, Laura, they’ve got a pretty bad reputation. Are you sure you want to be on the same bill as one of them for your party tonight?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” I asked in surprise. “It’s only because Remus and I were born four days apart, it seemed stupid to hold two separate parties.”

“Yeah, but Potter and Black? I wouldn’t trust them as far as I could throw them,” he muttered into his beef casserole. “Particularly Black, with that harem of his.”

This rather astonished me – I hadn’t realised he disliked them so much. And if he did, why hadn’t he mentioned it before? “I trust them,” I said. “James was incredible last year after Mary got attacked, and while Sirius is a bit of a berk sometimes I don’t have any reason not to trust him. And as for his harem, as you call it, if you knew anything about him you’d know what he thinks of them.”

Bertram looked unconvinced. “Let’s just say I’m glad I’ll be there to protect you.” I raised my eyebrows – I needed protecting from them? That was news to me. “I’ve heard what their parties can be like, and I don’t want either of them getting their grubby mitts on you.”

I laughed. “You’re joking, aren’t you? For one thing, there’s no way known James Potter would come near me considering, you may have noticed, I’m _not_ Lily Evans. And really, Sirius Black? And me? Stupid rumours aside, like that would ever happen in a million years.”

“Why not? You’re beautiful. If he can’t see that he needs his eyes checked.” Whatever else he was, Bertram was certainly loyal. And, unless I was mistaken, just a little jealous of people he had no need to be jealous of. I looked at him fondly.

“Then he needs his eyes checked. Maybe you should be grateful.” I tried to look solemn, faltering a little as an image of Sirius and me came unbidden into my mind. And I liked it. _No, Laura_ , _focus_. _Boyfriend, remember? Right next to you?_ With some difficulty I forced the image out of my head. Maybe he was right to be jealous after all.

“What about that Lupin?” Bertram was saying. “I doubt he’s any better.”

“Then you don’t know him,” I said, grateful for the excuse to push any thoughts of Sirius to the back of my mind where they belonged. “I don’t think Remus Lupin has had a girlfriend in the whole time he’s been here, and that’s not from lack of opportunity. He’s the least likely out of all of them to get wandering hands when he’s drunk.”

“I’m still glad I’ll be there,” he insisted, and it crossed my mind, not for the first time, how everyone just seemed to disregard Peter. Something which, if I was honest with myself, I was sometimes guilty of too. “Remind me how to get to the tower again?” Bertram went on. And he listened intently while I gave directions of the route from the Entrance Hall to Gryffindor Tower, promising to wait by the Fat Lady until I came to get him.

****

The party started at eight, and as one of the guests of honour I dressed with great care, selecting some of the clothes I’d received for my birthday and borrowing a necklace from Lily to complete the outfit. At eight on the dot I went down the staircase into the common room, smiling at Remus and crossing to the portrait hole to let Bertram in.

He looked around curiously as he entered – it seemed he’d not been in any other common rooms before. I’d spent so much of my first five years going in and out of Ravenclaw Tower I hadn’t even thought about it, but I supposed it was a bit different. After a moment to get his bearings, he squared his shoulders and moved towards Remus. “Hi, I’m Bertram Aubrey.”

“Nice to meet you. Remus Lupin,” said Remus, looking a little surprised.

Bertram didn’t introduce himself to anyone else, and threw a rather dirty look at James and Sirius as we joined Mary and Marcus. James kept his expression neutral, but Sirius’ eyes narrowed slightly and followed Bertram as he crossed the room. Maybe the dislike was mutual. I resolved to try to be more observant about these things in future.

The boys all had roles for the party, something I’d never been interested enough to notice before. James was the host who brought people together, introduced everyone and got things moving. Remus was the conversation starter, the one who went from group to group and filled any awkward silences with his pleasant and inoffensive chatter to get it going again. Sirius kept the bar and tables stocked and regularly spiked the drinks of unsuspecting younger students, and Peter kept the gramophone playing, changing records whenever one finished. They had obviously done this many times before and were well versed in it.

Aside from the initial awkwardness, the night was a success. James thought I was wonderful because Lily attended, though that hadn’t exactly been a challenge since it was my party as well. Bertram waited on me hand and foot which, while it took some getting used to, was very flattering and quite nice, really. The music played all night and the food and drink flowed easily, and by two in the morning the nine sixth-years and Bertram and Marcus were all happily gathered in a circle finishing off the remaining food, Hector having left a couple of hours previously. Sirius was measuring out Firewhisky shots and handing them around.

“Here you go, Ogden,” he said, giving Marcus a shot glass. “One for the family.” Marcus, whose great-grandfather had owned the Firewhisky distillery, just smiled.

Mary reached out for the next glass but Sirius held up a finger warningly, the corners of his mouth twitching a little. “Uh uh, you’re still under age.” He was obviously playing with her as he’d been unashamedly spiking people’s drinks all night, regardless of age.

Mary just raised her eyebrows and pointed at James, who wouldn’t be seventeen for another fortnight and was downing his shot in one gulp. “So’s he.”

Sirius pretended to think about that. “Yes, okay, fair point. Only remember, if anyone finds out, I didn’t give it to you.” He smiled broadly, all attempts at suppression failing miserably.

The next one came to me. “You ever had this before, Laura?” he asked, handing the subsequent glass to Bertram.

“You tell me,” I said, looking up at him half-accusingly as I too tried not to smile. “Have I?”

He grinned. “No, I haven’t put this in any of yours tonight.”

“Then no. Only elderflower wine, like we drank earlier, and some mead at Christmas.”

“Be careful, then,” he said, pouring shots for Charlotte and Peter. “It can get to your head pretty quickly, this stuff.” I nodded and downed it quickly, before I could pull a face at the flavour. The strange fiery aftertaste had faded before I realised he’d called me Laura instead of Cauldwell.

Three shots and half an hour later Bertram was getting tired. “I think I’d better head back downstairs now,” he said. “Don’t want to get caught out of bed too late. Unless you wanted me to stay?” He looked at me almost expectantly.

My mouth dropped open in shock. We’d been dating less than four weeks – really we’d known each other less than four weeks – and he wanted to spend the night? “I don’t think so,” I said as firmly as I could. “Besides, boys can’t get up the girls’ stairs, they turn into slides, so you couldn’t get up there anyway.” Meaning, _don’t get any ideas it’ll happen in the future, either_. And with as much strength as I could muster, I escorted him back to the portrait hole.

Sirius’ voice carried across the almost deserted room. “Is it just me or was that just a tad presumptuous?”

“No, not just you,” Lily said, her voice heavy with disgust.

“I thought that too,” said Remus, before quickly changing the subject as I returned to the circle.

I pretended I hadn’t heard them, but privately I agreed. To get my mind off it I downed another shot of Firewhisky, swishing it around in my mouth to get the fiery sensation before swallowing it.

Martha grinned wickedly. “Where’d you get the whisky anyway? You haven’t been _marauding_ for it, have you?”

James turned a little pale. “What did you say?” he asked, seeming much more sober all of a sudden.

“You heard me,” Martha said tartly, trying to suppress a giggle. The rest of us were similarly unsuccessful in our attempts not to laugh.

“How’d you find out?” asked Sirius. He too appeared to have sobered up significantly in about a millisecond, and abstractedly I wondered if they’d just had a shot of Sobering Solution instead of Firewhisky.

“Tha’ was me,” sai Mary. “I saw yer banner.”

“How?” Peter asked, and I remembered Mary had said the banner was placed so you couldn’t see it from the stairs.

“Snuck in one day,” she said, her boldness most probably due to the alcohol. Marcus put a protective arm around her. “Ye’d lef’ the door ajar, so I though’ I’d take a wee peek.”

“That was private,” said Sirius, almost angrily. “What else did you see?”

“No’ much o’ note,” said Mary. “I don’ know why it’s such a secret anyway, it’s no’ tha’ big a deal.”

“Looks like the game’s up, boys,” James said heavily. “Look, that was a nickname we came up with in second year. Ages ago. We just never took the banner down, it was one of those things only we knew, and it’s kind of nice having something about us the rest of the school’s not aware of.”

He was looking at Lily, as though praying she wouldn’t think worse of him because of something he’d thought was cool when he was twelve. Behind him, however, Peter, Sirius and Remus were all struggling to keep a straight face. There was obviously a joke somewhere that I didn’t get.

Lily nodded. “I can understand that,” she said, and James relaxed. “We won’t tell anyone, will we girls?”

“The bigger issue,” Remus said, “is you sneaking into our dorm. That’s not fair. We should be able to see yours now.”

Charlotte raised her eyebrows. “And how do you propose doing that? Seeing as if you put a foot on the staircase it will, as Laura said earlier, turn into a slide.”

“Don’t think we haven’t tried to figure out a way around that,” said Sirius, smiling mischievously.

“Why does that not surprise me?” Martha said. “But you haven’t come up with anything yet, have you?”

“That’s what you think,” said James. And no matter how much we prodded and begged, none of them would say anything further than that, leaving us wondering if they actually had got up the stairs and, if so, how they could possibly have managed it.


	21. Making new friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sharing spells with the boys helps lead to establishing new friendships, but Bertram is less than impressed. But then, sometimes Laura’s necessarily not that pleased with Bertram, either.

The following Wednesday, halfway through a particularly trying double Potions lesson, I was disturbed by something hitting me on the back of the neck. Turning around, I saw Sirius grin at me while pointing at the floor next to my stool, where a scrunched up bit of parchment was lying. It occurred to me it was probably a bit dumb, throwing notes around during Potions where they could easily land on a fire or in someone’s cauldron, but then again Sirius wasn’t exactly known for his forethought.

I looked quickly at Professor Slughorn, who appeared to have not noticed anything untoward. Surreptitiously I leaned over and picked up the parchment.

It was a note in what I assumed was Sirius’ handwriting. _What’s that spell your sister did that made Nigel Ackerley breathe purple bubbles?_

Lily looked at me quizzically and I showed her the note. She glanced over her shoulder at the boys and I smiled to myself: it looked like the girls were right when they speculated he’d want me to teach him Bea’s hexes. Well, whether I chose to or not would depend …

_Who do you want to use it on?_ I scrawled back, throwing it over my shoulder and hearing it land on the table he was sharing with James, Remus and Charlotte. Another swift look at Professor Slughorn showed he still hadn’t noticed anything – he was leaning over Snape’s cauldron with an appreciative look on his face.

_Snivellus, of course_ , was the response, which came back after just a few seconds, this time flying over my shoulder and landing on the table in front of me. Either his aim was getting better, or James had thrown it.

I considered it while I cast an eye over Severus. While I hadn’t noticed him doing anything in particular lately, even Lily had admitted to his general creepiness and he’d probably look better with the bubbles coming out of his nose and mouth. They might even help clean the grease from his hair off his face, because Merlin only knew he needed that. I mean, I knew he didn’t have much in the way of gold, but surely he could spring for some shampoo just once in a while?

Lily, reading the note, looked at me and nodded firmly, indicating her approval for the use of such a hex on the person who had once been her friend. That was the clincher: if Lily approved then I should feel no guilt about it whatsoever. Ignoring Leda Minchum who was trying to read the note upside down (undoubtedly just because Sirius had written it), I decided to share the spell.

_Puniceus ebullio_. _Similar wand movement to the Levitation Charm – can show you later if you like._ I scrunched up the parchment and flicked it back to him, looking over my shoulder as I did so.

He read the note, caught my eye and gave me the thumbs up, smiling broadly. _Great_ , I thought, _in two days the whole school will know that spell and it will all be my fault._

Sirius caught up with me after class as we trudged upstairs out of the dungeon, followed by Leda and Greta Catchlove who I had the impression thought they were being subtle. “So, Laura, when are you going to teach me that hex?”

“Whenever’s easiest,” I said.

“Actually,” he said, watching my face, “the gang were wondering if you wouldn’t mind teaching us a few of those jinxes you know.”

“Who are you planning on using them on?” I asked, though I thought I already knew the answer.

“Just Slytherins,” he grinned, confirming my theory. “And anyone else who really gets our goat. Filch, for example. And maybe a giggler or two.” His eyes flicked to where Greta and Leda were still trying to eavesdrop on our conversation and he winked at me.

“All right,” I said, suspecting it was a lost cause. With that smile of his, I had the feeling I’d have trouble refusing Sirius anything for very long. I understood now just how he got away with so much – it was easy to stay immune to his charm when he wasn’t using it on you, but when he did it was a completely different story. To tell the truth, I was almost ashamed of myself for turning out to be just like everyone else, recognising much too late for it to be of any use that he really was a first-class flirt. “When did you have in mind?”

“Night would be good,” he said, considering, the flirty smile thankfully disappearing which meant I could breathe properly again. “After dinner. That way it doesn’t matter how long it takes us to learn them. If we used a free period we might run out of time, especially if Peter’s there too. That’s if we could even find a free period when we are all free, of course.”

“Just how many jinxes do you think I’m willing to teach you?” I asked with mock indignation as we reached the ground floor. “Oh, okay,” I went on, smiling at the slightly panicked look on his face. “Let me know a night when all four of you _aren’t_ in detention and we’ll work it from there.”

“Thanks, Laura,” he said, smiling that brilliant smile, and took off in another direction. And, as though to compound my feeling of shame, I actually had to stop myself from watching him go. Yep, his years of practice in putting on the charm had certainly made him very good at it, and I was finding myself to be far more susceptible than I’d ever realised. _No, Laura, focus,_ I thought. _You’re being ridiculous_. _Besides, you already have a boyfriend, remember?_ And, shaking my head a little at my own behaviour, I took off upstairs towards the library, which had been my original destination.

Anyway, so it happened that one cold March evening I was sitting with the boys in front of the fire in the common room, teaching them a selection of Beatrice’s hexes and the appropriate counter-jinxes. It took several hours in total as they practiced on each other, but finally even Peter had mastered the final spell and was sitting back, admiring the daisies he had caused to grow on Remus’ arms.

“Well,” I said, “that’s enough for tonight. Time for bed, I think.” I tried to get up from my chair and failed miserably, while James lazily Vanished Remus’ bouquet.

“What’s wrong?” asked Remus, watching my discomfort as his arms returned to view.

I collapsed back down into the chair. “I’ve been sitting still too long. My legs have gone to sleep.”

James looked at me with mock concern. “Well, you’d better wake them up, ’cause otherwise they’ll be up all night and you’ll never get to sleep.”

Sirius and Peter guffawed with laughter and even Remus smiled indulgently. I managed a wry grin as I tried again to put some weight onto my legs.

Sirius instantly transformed into his helpful mode, which I was learning could show its face occasionally. “Here, let me give you a hand,” he said without a trace of humour. You could always tell when he was being genuine – the haughty and arrogant look that usually adorned his face disappeared entirely, leaving it looking friendly and even a little vulnerable. He hoisted my arm around his shoulder and took on most of my weight as we made our way to the bottom of the girls’ stairs.

“You okay?” he asked as we paused just before the first step. “I can’t go any further than this.”

I looked up at him gratefully, testing my weight on my still-tingling legs, and noticing the rest of me was tingling a bit too, though I had a rather nasty suspicion that had nothing to do with sitting on my legs all night. Definitely way too susceptible, I decided, especially seeing that now they all knew the bulk of Bea’s spells he wasn’t likely to seek my company any more. “Yeah, I should be fine,” was what I said out loud. “Thanks.” And, reminding myself fiercely that I had a boyfriend and therefore shouldn’t be reacting this way, I grabbed the handrail and used it to pull myself up to the dormitory.

****

I wasn’t neglecting Bertram, however, no matter how much time I spent chatting to the boys or teaching them spells. In fact, our relationship was progressing rather well and one Saturday, sick of being caught in abandoned classrooms by teachers, other students, or Filch, I agreed to his suggestion we head to his dormitory for a bit of time alone.

He took me downstairs from the Great Hall after lunch and along a lengthy corridor before we stopped at a pile of barrels that looked as though they were about to be thrown out. To my surprise, he started tapping on one of the lids, and suddenly it opened to reveal a passage, leading to what would have been my common room if I’d followed the family tradition and been Sorted into Hufflepuff. This was the first time I’d been in there, as my relationship with Cadmus in fourth year hadn’t been serious enough to warrant anything more than a few snogs and the odd grope in a broom cupboard.

It was an eye-opener, to say the least. My mother, like all good Muggles, had a copy of _The_ _Lord of the Rings_ on her bookshelf which I’d read in its entirety in the summer between fourth and fifth years, and I must say my first impression was that I’d arrived in a person-sized hobbit hole. Although we were obviously underground , there were a few circular windows near the roof that obviously sat just above ground level, meaning the room was bathed in sunlight. It was round and bright and cheerful, probably due in no small part to the several copper and yellow wall hangings which gave the whole place a warm, welcoming glow, and the tables held a number of plants that looked like they might be on loan from the greenhouses. On the far wall was what I assumed was a portrait of Helga Hufflepuff, which made me wonder what Godric Gryffindor had looked like as there were no pictures of him in Gryffindor Tower at all.

Spaced around the room were several round yellow doors with handles in the middle of them which I supposed led off to the dormitories, and a lot of large squashy armchairs, bedecked in black and yellow, that looked much more comfortable than anything we had in Gryffindor Tower.

After I’d looked around a bit and got my bearings, and greeted some of Bertram’s friends who grinned rather knowingly at me, Bertram led me through one of the round yellow doors and along a winding stone passageway towards the seventh-year boys’ dorm. Again, it was rather different from what we had in Gryffindor. While I’d never been in the boys’ dorms in Gryffindor Tower I assumed they were set up much like ours were, and I knew the girls’ dorm in Ravenclaw Tower was almost identical to ours, but this was different again. It was still a circular room with five beds spaced evenly around it, but the lack of windows made much more of an impact than I would have thought. The bed hangings were all yellow and burnished copper and there were a lot of copper lamps to provide light, and it felt rather warmer than our dorm did, but I just felt there was something missing. (Or maybe that was just the array of fragrant soaps and potions Martha kept in our bathroom that permeated the whole room.)

Bertram led me to one of the beds and parted the hangings so I could get inside. Fortunately the room was empty aside from us – I hadn’t been sure that would be the case, as Bertram didn’t seem to feel the same need for privacy as I did with some things. Anyway once we were both safely ensconced on the patchwork quilt he turned to me and, hand on the back of my head underneath my hair, pulled me towards him and kissed me gently, passionately.

This was lovely. I didn’t even mind when my t-shirt ended up on the pillow and my bra soon followed it, because he was making a show of letting things go at a pace I was happy with. However, eventually this fell by the wayside and when I felt him unbuttoning my jeans and trying to pull them down over my hips I was less than impressed.

“No.”

He stopped, but only briefly. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. No.”

“But isn’t that why you came in here in the first place?” he asked, a confused look on his face.

“No, it’s not,” I said irritably. “I was just sick of being walked in on all the time.”

“But it’s not that much more of a step,” he insisted. “Come on, you’ll love it.”

“No. I’m not ready for that.”

He only then stopped his attempt and indicated his bulging pants. “Well, what am I supposed to do with this then?”

I just looked at him. How was I supposed to know? It wasn’t like I had any experience with this sort of thing. “Whatever you like. Just don’t expect me to help.”

“Oh, Laura, you don’t mean that,” he whispered into my ear in what I’m sure he hoped was a seductive manner. “Come on, just try it …”

I pushed him away and sat up, reaching for my abandoned clothes. “I said, no. What part of that do you not get?”

Finally he cottoned on. “You really mean that, don’t you?” he said with obvious disappointment. “I thought …”

I cut him off, fixing him with a stern look as I dressed myself. “You thought what, exactly?”

“Well, most girls say no but they really mean yes, they just want you to beg a bit more.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Well then, they must have different meanings of words in Nottingham,” I said coldly. “Where I come from, no always means no. And I’m leaving now.”

As I walked quickly back towards the round yellow common room and then into the castle proper, ignoring the surprised looks Bertram’s friends wore as they saw me storming out of their hobbit hole, I wondered what I’d just done. Were we going to break up? If we were that would disappoint me, but I wasn’t about to turn back and agree to what he’d wanted just on that basis. I was sure I was in the right there – no should definitely mean no. Fortunately my musings were interrupted by the boy himself, who had also hurried to get dressed and followed me.

“Laura!” I turned when I heard his voice, just as I was about to head up the marble staircase that led from the Entrance Hall to the upper floors.

“Bertram.” I probably said it more coolly than I meant to, but I was still annoyed with him.

“Look, I’m sorry. That was completely out of line, what I did. I should have listened to you.”

“Yes, you should have.”

“And I never meant to pressure you.”

That almost made me laugh. He pressured me regularly about that. But maybe, to give him the benefit of the doubt, he didn’t realise he was doing it. “I’m sure you didn’t,” was what I said, rather charitably I thought.

“Will you forgive me? Please?” He was rather close now and looked at me in his most endearing way, his brown eyes fixing me with a very hopeful expression.

“Not right now, no.” I still had some cooling down to do, he had me pretty aggravated.

“Oh, come on, Laura,” he said in his most persuasive voice, putting an arm around me. “I know you don’t want to cause a scene in the middle of the Entrance Hall …”

I pulled away. Did he really think it was as simple as that? After making those sorts of assumptions? “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Bertram, but I’m not all that happy with you right at the moment. And I’d appreciate it if you left me alone for a little while.” And I turned away from him and walked purposefully up the marble staircase towards Gryffindor Tower.

As I reached the top of the stairs Sirius, who had apparently seen our little display in the Entrance Hall, joined me unexpectedly. “Boyfriend troubles?” he asked. I was glad of the company – not necessarily because I wanted to talk to anyone, but because Bertram disliked Sirius so much it meant he was unlikely to follow me.

“You could say that,” I muttered. “We had a minor disagreement over a definition.”

“Ah,” he said with a knowing smile, “those ones can get tricky. What’s the word? ‘Relationship’? Or ‘truth’, that was always a sticking point.”

“Neither,” I said, shaking my head. “It’s ‘no’.” I wasn’t sure exactly why I was telling him, but then again I reasoned he’d probably had his fair share of similar discussions over the years. On the other side, of course.

“Oh. That one.” A flash of what looked almost like anger crossed his face, and part of me wondered what memory had sparked that. Or, more specifically, whose memory.

“Yes, that one. So I thought I’d just let him stew a bit while I calm down. You know, remind him that if he does get the dictionary out it’ll support my version of what it means and not his.”

“Right.” He flashed me a smile, which I thought was almost inappropriate given what we were talking about. “Reading between the lines then, I guess it’s a bad time to ask you how to reverse that jinx that gives you a flamingo neck.”

I laughed despite myself: I was discovering Sirius had a remarkable talent for taking my mind off things. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten that one already. I only taught you last week.”

“Ah, well, yes,” he said, looking somewhat uncomfortable as we stepped over the trick stair on the short-cut staircase, “but we must be getting the pronunciation wrong or something. It’s not working.”

“Okay, who’s been jinxed?”

“Pron- James,” he said, making me smile a little at the assumption I wouldn’t know who ‘Prongs’ was. I thought the whole school probably knew that by now. “Snivellus got him again.”

I looked at him sympathetically. “Again? What is it between those two?”

He cocked an eyebrow. “You actually have to ask that?”

“Right. Lily.”

“Yes, I believe so. I have no idea why, of course, it’s not like she even talks to either of them.”

“Well you’d know better than I would the way a boy’s mind works,” I said with a grin. “Okay, I’ll fix it. Where is he?”

“Common room,” he said, which would explain why he hadn’t tried to make me take a detour on the way upstairs. Sure enough, once we got into Gryffindor Tower James was rather conspicuous by his extended neck, which had a rather attractive curve to it and a covering of pink feathers.

“ _Pluma gutter subsisto_ ,” I murmured, giving my wand a flick in James’ direction. Almost immediately he started looking more like a human being and less like a cross-breed gone horribly wrong, and within a minute he was back to his usual self.

“Thanks, Cauldwell,” he said gratefully. “I couldn’t talk properly with that neck, and this lot couldn’t get the counter-jinx right.”

“What were you doing?” I asked. After they showed me, I immediately realised their error. “You’ve got the word wrong. It’s _pluma_ , not _plumo_. You were trying to take away his quill.”

“That would explain this,” Peter said, holding up what obviously used to be a long-feathered quill but now had only the skeleton remaining. “Brand new, too. I’m going to have to write to Mum for another one now.”

I looked at him sympathetically. “Ugh. Sorry about that, Peter. If I’d known this could happen I’d have warned you last week.”

“No worries,” said Remus, trying again. “So it’s _Pluma gutter subsisto_. We should be able to remember that.”

I looked at them, practicing so earnestly. It was almost funny. “How did Snivellus find out that jinx anyway?”

James looked somewhat embarrassed. “We, er, might have used it on Regulus …”

“And then taught it to him afterwards,” Sirius admitted a little shamefacedly.

I groaned. “Say no more.” Merlin only knew what was going to happen now, if people like Snape knew Bea’s spells. Maybe teaching them to the boys in the first place had been a significant mistake.

Anyway, whether it was because I’d helped James out of his fix or what it was, I didn’t know, but the boys surprised me by continuing to talk to us even after they’d raided my version of Beatrice’s spell-book. In fact, although it was a gradual thing, by the end of the month the rest of the girls and I felt we could almost call them our friends. Except Lily with James, of course, where the girl-of-his-dreams thing got in the way a few times, though even then he was remarkably restrained. For James, that is. But they started including us in on some of their jokes, would chat with us occasionally over meals, and even swap notes with us for homework assignments and the like.

The added bonus we got with being friendly with the boys was they started looking out for us. They began doing things like stepping in when they felt we might be uncomfortable, and forming a protective barrier between us and, say, some of the nastier Slytherins. I couldn’t help but think it was a shame we hadn’t cultivated this relationship earlier, at least to before Mary’s unfortunate encounter with Mulciber, though I did recognise that in the nine or so months that had passed since then we had all grown up a little and probably wouldn’t have got along nearly so well then as we did now. In any case we had begun to realise they could be powerful friends and, conversely, dangerous enemies.

Bertram, on the other hand, was less than pleased I was getting closer to James, Sirius, Remus and Peter. “I don’t trust them,” he said for the hundredth time at supper one night. “What do they want with you? Why do they keep hanging around?”

“I wouldn’t say they’re exactly ‘hanging around’,” I said with a shrug. “Same year, same House, most of the same subjects – I can hardly avoid them, really. And they’re really useful for study, to be honest.” This was true: James and Sirius would offer brilliant insights into various things, while Remus and Peter could produce copious notes and take us through things step by step. Things which to James and Sirius were so obvious they didn’t see the need to identify any steps at all. With all this to draw on, I could almost feel my grades improving on the spot.

Mary had noticed it too. “I don’ know what prompted it, bu’ I’m happy the boys are so helpful,” she said in the common room that night after Peter, of all people, had explained a complicated Transfiguration concept so well even a second year would have been able to understand it.

“Me too,” I said, pulling some spare parchment out of my bag in preparation for a new essay. “I can’t work out why Bertram dislikes them so much. I mean, it’s not like they’re trying to seduce us or anything. They’re just being nice.”

Mary nodded. “Aye, it’s no’ lik’ ye’re aboot t’ leave him fer one o’ them.”

I shook my head in frustration. “Precisely. I just wish he’d be more reasonable about it.”

We were interrupted by a small explosion by the fire, where the boys were hunched over what appeared to be the remains of a large sheet of parchment. I rolled my eyes in their general direction and turned back to Mary. “They’re not exactly a threat, so I shouldn’t have to be walking this fine line, trying to keep him happy on the one hand, and actually passing sixth year on the other.”

“And hoo is he otherwise?” Mary asked. Another explosion, which we decided to ignore. “Keepin’ his hands t’ himself ye’?”

Ah yes. That. I had of course forgiven him his little indiscretion in the Hufflepuff dorm after I’d calmed down a bit – after all, he was only human and had all sorts of hormones running wild, so I supposed I couldn’t blame him for trying. And at least he’d stopped when I asked him to, eventually if not immediately. However, it was something that kept coming up (pun not intended) and it wasn’t something I was prepared to consider. At this point, anyway.

“He’s … okay,” I said finally after thinking about how to word it, ignoring yet another explosion by the fire. I shot the boys an annoyed look – what on earth were they up to? “Behaving himself, mostly, I guess.” Okay, he kept trying for it and I kept pushing him away, not feeling ready to take that next step just yet, but no matter how many times I said “No” he still didn’t seem to get it. Shaking my head a little, I went on. “I mean, he makes me feel really special, tells me I’m beautiful, all that sort of thing. But …” I hesitated again, my cheeks burning. “It feels like he had this idea of what I was like before we got together. You know, what I like, how I behave, all that stuff. And, well, this image he had of me isn’t all that accurate, but he doesn’t seem to have worked that out yet.”

Mary nodded. “Well, he did tak’ ye t’ Madam Puddifoot’s,” she pointed out. “Tha’ shoul’ have bin a dead giveaway.” Bang. It was Mary’s turn to send the boys a dirty look this time. “Bu’ he’s still doin’ tha’ kin’ o’ thing?”

“Yeah, he is. And I like him a lot, but it does frustrate me.” Another bang, another scorched piece of parchment. “What on earth are they doing over there?” I asked finally, getting really fed up with the interruptions. “Honestly, how many explosions do they need?”

Mary shook her head resignedly. “Maybe they’ve hi’ their limit too,” she said, as the boys suddenly let out a raucous cheer and high-fived each other with gusto. “Whatever they were tryin’ t’ do must have worked.” She turned to me. “Ye were sayin’?”

It took me a second to regain my train of thought. “Oh yeah. Bertram. Yeah, he’s got this idea of what I’m like, and I’m not that person at all. Really, you’d think that after the best part of two months he would have worked it out, that I’m not that person, but I don’t really know that he has.”

Was all this worth putting up with just to have a boyfriend? To be frank, most of the time, yes. I had always considered myself very ordinary in just about every way so it was nice to have that contradicted for once, and when he was showering me with affection I loved the way he made me feel. So I weighed it up and made my decision. Overall, he made me happy more than he made me uncomfortable, so I concluded that the relationship was definitely worth continuing.


	22. Gryffindor vs Hufflepuff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quidditch, Easter holidays, and a gift is returned. All of which serve to make life just that little bit more remarkable.

A week before the Easter holidays Gryffindor was playing Hufflepuff in one of the final Quidditch matches of the year. Gryffindor had a good team that year and were one of the favourites, along with Slytherin, for the Quidditch Cup. Fortunately Ravenclaw had hammered Slytherin in the previous game, and if we beat Hufflepuff by more than a hundred and ninety points we would take Slytherin’s spot on top of the table.

I went down to breakfast with the other girls, bedecked in our red and gold mufflers with matching woolly hats and gloves in hand. While the weather had warmed up significantly, it could still get rather cold up in the grandstands where you were a good two hundred feet above ground level.

The boys were already at the table, helping James through a dose of nerves. It amused me that he was always so nervous before a game, seeing he was so confident in other things and was also largely responsible for most of the Gryffindor victories over the past four years.

“Steady, Prongs,” Remus was saying in that wonderful calm way he had. “You’re used to this by now, remember?”

James downed a mugful of black coffee in one gulp and was plainly steeling himself. “Right. It’s only Hufflepuff, after all. I’ve faced worse.”

I stole a glance at the Hufflepuff table where Bertram, dressed in his House yellow, was trying to brace their Keeper for the match. And brace was probably the right word – James, Anna Vector and Clarrie Trimble sent the Quaffle through the hoops so quickly you could rarely see it. Gryffindor House had a running joke that if you wanted to kill someone, then a Quaffle hurled by James Potter would probably be quicker and more accurate than an _Avada Kedavra_.

“What, not going for Hufflepuff?” said a voice in my ear. I turned to see Sirius had planted himself next to me and was finishing the dregs of his tea.

“Why would I be going for Hufflepuff?” I asked, surprised.

“Because lover-boy used to play for them, of course,” he said as though it was obvious.

I was astonished he would even think that might make a difference. “So?”

He shook his head, though he was smiling and his eyes were sparkling. “I don’t know, Laura, picking your House over your boyfriend. Some blokes might not take too kindly to that.”

“But I was in Gryffindor long before he came along,” I said. “I might have always had a soft spot for Hufflepuff but the Sorting Hat had other ideas, so I’ve adapted myself. Just as well, too – Gryffindor’s got a much better team.” I grinned.

He looked confused. “But wasn’t your sister in Ravenclaw?”

“Yeah, why?” Now it was my turn to be confused – what did Bea have to do with anything?

“Then why would you have a soft spot for Hufflepuff?”

I laughed. Everyone knew his family history, no one knew mine. “Because, Sirius, prior to Bea, all my family were in Hufflepuff. She broke the trend and I broke it even further. Dad didn’t know what to do with us, he’d drummed Hufflepuff in our heads all our lives and then neither of us was Sorted there.” I paused, looking at him. “Imagine you got along with your family, you might have a soft spot for Slytherin.”

He grinned. “Nope, I can’t imagine that. It’s beyond the realms of possibility. But I think I know what you mean.”

“Anyway,” I said, my eyes on the Hufflepuff table again, “Bertram knows I won’t go against my House. Not even for Hufflepuff.” I didn’t mention it had been a cause of tension between us, that he had automatically assumed I would swap my team for his. I’d been rather annoyed by that – Quidditch didn’t work that way and I had no intention of ditching the team I’d supported all through school on the basis of a few snogs. Maybe in the end he’d appreciated my standing up for what I believed in. I certainly hoped so.

Sirius was saying something innocuous, and I realised I’d not been paying attention to him. Oops. Some friend I was. I pretended I’d been listening by smiling at him as I poured myself a drink, and I suspected it worked because he smiled back, got up and said, “See you at the game, then.”

After breakfast I went down to the Quidditch pitch like the rest of the school. Bertram sought me out and I smiled as I defiantly pulled my red and gold Gryffindor scarf closer around my neck. I would have supported Hufflepuff against Ravenclaw or Slytherin, but not against my own House.

“Not changing your mind, then?” he asked, and his tone was easy but he was obviously still disappointed.

“Sorry, no,” I said. “Gryffindor by at least two hundred, thank you very much.”

His arm snaked around me. “And what would you be saying if I was still on the team?”

“I’d be hoping you had a great game and that Gryffindor won by at least two hundred.”

He shook his head affectionately. “You’re like the Rock of Gibraltar, aren’t you?” he said, tousling my hair. “Won’t budge for anything.”

“I’ve told you, you don’t just swap Quidditch teams on a whim. You know that, you used to play. How can you expect me to be any less loyal?”

“You do realise this means we can’t sit together,” he said somewhat sternly. “Not if we’re supporting different teams.”

“Fine with me. It’s only an hour or two anyway, I’m sure we’ll survive.” I’d intended to sit with Mary anyway, as this was the first game she’d been to since getting together with Marcus and she’d asked me to provide moral support, so where Bertram wanted to sit wasn’t high on my list of priorities.

We stopped just short of the pitch and he pulled me aside. “Do I at least get a kiss goodbye?”

“Of course,” I smiled, reaching up and pulling his face towards mine. “A kiss goodbye, but not for good luck.” And before he could respond our lips were together – I’d always intended to have the last word.

After a little while we parted and I hurried up to the Gryffindor seating area where Mary and the other girls had saved me a spot. “That’s the trouble with dating someone from another House,” I grumbled as I pushed past Martha to the empty seat. “Always want you to go against your own team just ’cause they asked you to.”

Mary laughed. “He wanted ye t’ support Hufflepuff? Fa’ chance o’ tha’!”

“Exactly what I said,” I said. “Gryffindor by at least two hundred. Even if he was still playing, I’d still be saying Gryffindor by at least two hundred.” I paused, taking in the view from the stand, and noticed the boys a couple of rows in front of us. “Oi, Remus!”

He turned around. “Yes?”

“Does James think we’re going to get the points? Enough, I mean, to get to the top of the table?” It was always good to get a perspective from one of the participants, and now I knew the boys well enough to ask for one.

“Probably,” Remus said. “Depends on whether their Beaters have a good day or not.”

I nodded. “That sounds reasonable.” The Hufflepuff Beaters were very good and as sixth- and seventh-years were a bit stronger than ours, who were both in fifth year. A rogue Bludger or two could do a tidy bit of damage if they had their eyes in.

We were interrupted by the starting whistle, and Mary was instantly an interesting but messy combination of nerves and pride. Every time Hufflepuff scored, against Marcus of course, she took it as a personal injury, but each throw he blocked was the pinnacle of success. Lily and I, on either side of her, would occasionally exchange a giggle when she wasn’t gripping our arms like her life depended on it.

The game had been going for about forty-five minutes when the Snitch appeared. The score was two hundred and seventy to two hundred and fifty, Gryffindor leading, but without another couple of goals it was too early for us to win by the required margin. The Hufflepuff Beaters had indeed played at their best, sending Bludgers at our Chasers at the worst possible times. Naturally, the Hufflepuff Seeker didn’t see the Snitch’s arrival as a problem and took off like lightning towards it but our Seeker, Persephone Alderton, appeared undecided as to whether she should pursue him or not. In the end she did, succeeding only in putting him off enough to make him miss the take. The Snitch, reprieved, took off underneath the grandstands, and I didn’t see it again until a couple of minutes later when Persephone rose triumphantly in front of the stand with it clutched in her hand.

Of course, we hadn’t won by enough to knock Slytherin off the top of the Quidditch table. The final score was four hundred and thirty to two hundred and fifty, meaning we were a lousy twenty points short. We would have to rely on other results if we were to get to the top of the table before the final game of the year, in which we would be playing Slytherin. No one wanted the championship to come down to that game so it would be a little nerve-wracking for a few weeks.

“Not quite what you were hoping for, was it?” Bertram asked after the game as he put an arm around me and we headed back to the castle.

“Not quite,” I admitted, “but still pretty close. And at least we won.”

He grimaced. “I knew I didn’t like that Potter for a reason.”

I laughed at him. James had scored a hundred and fifty of our points, with the remaining hundred and thirty not due to the Snitch shared between Clarrie Trimble and Anna Vector. “Don’t you dare say a bad word about James Potter. Otherwise I’ll just think you’re jealous he’s not on your team.”

“I wonder if we can take him out before he plays us again …” he mused. “Break a leg or something.”

“It’d take more than that to stop James playing Quidditch. You’d have to kill him. Which I’m not recommending, by the way – I’ve seen him duel.”

Bertram scowled. “Is there anything that bloke can’t do?”

“Of course there is,” I said, smiling as we made our way through the front doors of the castle. “He can’t get Lily to go out with him.”

His expression cleared. “Remind me to congratulate her next time I see her.” We stopped near the foot of the main stairs, his arms around me. “Laura, I’ve got a mountain of homework. Can we meet up at supper instead of this afternoon?”

“That should be fine,” I said. “I’ve got a Potions essay to finish anyway, it’s due on Monday and I’ve barely done any of it.”

He kissed me gently. “Thanks. See you later on. I’ll save you a spot at our table.” His hands had found their way under my jumper and were running up my back.

I smiled and kissed him again. “That’d be great, thanks.” And, a rather warm hug later, I waved as I went up the stairs and he disappeared towards the Hufflepuff common room.

****

Even though the Easter holidays only went for two weeks, and there was a four-day weekend smack bang in the middle of them, my mother was keen I get my provisional driving licence. As a police officer she wanted Bea and I to have a good understanding of the Highway Code and believed it would be very useful if we both learned to drive. She’d not had much luck with Bea, who showed little interest, but I was a much more willing participant and she spent many hours with me in the car, showing me the basics and supervising my driving when I did make it onto the road. Towards the end of the holidays she even persuaded one of her colleagues, who worked in driver testing, to take me out a few times to make sure I had a proper understanding of everything I would be examined on when I went for my full licence.

In between driving excursions I was inundated with owls from Bertram, who was eager to see me before school started again and professed to be just as eager to meet my family. Unlike me he could easily Apparate over long distances (and, as a minor point, also had his licence) and made it to Bristol from his home on the outskirts of Nottingham without difficulty.

I introduced him to my parents – and to Bea, who was still living at home and even still had the same job – with a certain amount of hesitancy and trepidation. The problems even I was seeing in the relationship were frankly a bit of a sticking point: I wasn’t sure that it would be a long one and so didn’t see the need to bring parents into the mix. But he was showering me with kisses and compliments when he suggested it, so I was feeling more indulgent towards him than I might otherwise have been. Needless to say I was having second, third and fourth thoughts about his visit by the time he actually arrived.

The ‘meet the parents’ thing fortunately went off better than I had anticipated. Bertram was the very model of good manners and social niceties, and Mum even invited him to stay for dinner. However, something in the air wasn’t quite right. I couldn’t put my finger on it but it put me on my guard, and as a result I wasn’t quite my usual self that evening. Fortunately I didn’t think anyone noticed, and I made a point of contributing as much to the conversation as usual, but I was never really comfortable. Finally, near midnight, Bertram took his leave without having made one inappropriate suggestion or gesture, and I breathed a sigh of relief it was over.

When the time came to go back to school, I found Mary on Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters before Bertram found me. “I probably don’t have much time,” I said, “but I need to talk to you. It’s been, well, an interesting break.”

Mary raised her eyebrows as she hauled her small suitcase onto the train – only going home for two weeks, we didn’t need much luggage. “Bertram?”

“Came over to meet my folks, believe it or not. Fortunately it went okay, but …”

“Say no more,” she said, smiling. “An’ here he comes. We’ll talk tonight, okay?” And she clambered onto the train and promptly disappeared, probably in search of Marcus.

I turned around to see Bertram, who was beaming as he approached me. “How’s my favourite girl?” he asked, kissing me.

“Great,” I smiled as we climbed onto the train, pausing in the open doorway. “I take it you got home okay on Thursday night?”

“Piece of cake,” he said, his hand stroking just behind my ear in an affectionate way. “Shall we find a compartment? Somewhere private,” he added much more quietly, his other hand tracing my spine and pausing when it reached the base.

I grinned again, thinking that so long as he knew when to stop this would be a most enjoyable train ride, and leaned up to kiss his cheek.

Over his shoulder I watched the procession of students taking leave of their families and boarding the train. Clio Zeller was there, still with Sebastian Quirke, who she had apparently hooked up with in Hogsmeade back in February. Gertie Cresswell and her little brother Dirk were there, alone – I remembered they were Muggle-born and therefore their parents may have preferred not to enter the platform. Lily was looking tearful as she gave her mum an extended hug before climbing aboard the prefects’ carriage. Maggie Flint was waving to what looked like her parents and older brothers. Gerry Stebbins was looking around keenly, probably for Mary and probably in the hope she and Marcus had broken up. Anna Vector, the Gryffindor Quidditch captain, was surrounded by friends further up the train. James and Sirius were picking their way through the crowds with what must have been James’ parents, though they looked rather older than I would have thought. I noticed Elvira hovering brazenly behind the boys, and I suspected Sirius was aware of this as he was scowling as he made his way down the platform. Not wanting to be on the receiving end of his temper, I grabbed Bertram and went inside the train.

Of course we didn’t spend the whole train ride joined at the mouth, or even at the hip. Bertram had brought the _Sunday Prophet_ along and we picked our way through it, looking for names we recognised among the lists of people who had died or disappeared in the previous week.

“Oh look,” he said, pointing to Ruby Hopkirk’s name among the dead. “Do you think she’s related to Nestor?”

“Maybe,” I said, looking around as if I expected to see Nestor walking past our compartment at that precise moment so I could ask him. “How about that one? Could be related to Fin.” The name Niall Quigley had caught my eye; Finbar Quigley was in the year below me at Gryffindor, and a Beater on the Quidditch team.

“Oh, that’s awful,” I went on, my eyes transfixed. “Frederick Strout. I know that’s Thalia’s dad.” Thalia was a Hufflepuff in my year, and her father had apparently disappeared without a trace the previous Wednesday. “I wonder if she’s even come back this term, if that’s happened.”

“And look at that one,” Bertram said a little later. “Genevieve Keitch. I’m pretty sure she’s David Keitch’s mum. Looks like she’s been tortured.” David Keitch had been in Bea’s year, in Hufflepuff, so Bertram probably knew him.

“What for, though?” I asked rhetorically. “It’s not like she would have information they wanted, would she?”

It was a horrible side effect of the time we lived in that we could blithely go through a list of dead and missing as though it was the weekend’s Quidditch results. It was all due to Voldemort, of course – it was him and his minions who were responsible for the deaths and disappearances of the loved ones of our schoolmates. Even Muggle Britain wasn’t immune, with explosions and building collapses that the Muggle authorities described as freak accidents, but were actually random Muggle killings initiated by the Death Eaters.

By the time we reached Hogsmeade we were feeling rather sombre and serious, having heard more stories on the train about people’s parents, cousins, uncles and aunts, brothers and sisters, who had been on the receiving end of the Death Eaters’ wands. Bertram kept me in a close embrace, which I appreciated as it was more comforting than romantic. We clambered onto the horseless carriages at the station with heavy hearts and a sense of dread as to what the coming years would bring.

The feast that night was again a sober affair. Professor Dumbledore drew our attention to the large numbers of casualties from the war, reminding us that success lay in sticking together to fight this evil. United we stand, divided we fall. I was absolutely in agreement with him but I’d heard it all before and to be honest my attention started wandering before he reached the end of his speech. The food was on the table before I’d realised he’d stopped talking.

“So, what’s up?” asked Mary, spooning a couple of jacket potatoes onto her plate. “Ye wanted t’ talk?”

“I think it can wait,” I said, indicating Fin Quigley down the table. It appeared Niall Quigley was indeed a cousin of his who had been killed during the week. After all the bad news, whinging to Mary about Bertram suddenly seemed much less important.

Fortunately Mary understood my reluctance and went back to pouring gravy over her roast chicken. “Fair enough. Though it might be a nice change, talkin’ aboot boys again fer a while!”

****

My week improved that Tuesday when Professor McGonagall called me back after Transfiguration finished. “Miss Cauldwell?” she said as we gathered our books and stuffed them in our bags. “A word, please.”

I looked resignedly at the other girls and approached her desk with trepidation. Was my last homework assignment really that bad? I had the hang of Transfiguration now, my marks were pretty good and I was proud of what I’d been able to achieve. After all, just that day I had successfully Transfigured my hand into a cauliflower and back again.

She smiled when I reached the desk. “Miss Cauldwell, here is your clasp back,” she said, handing me the stunning piece of jewellery I’d been given anonymously for my birthday.

“Oh,” I said, momentarily lost for words. She’d had it so long I’d almost forgotten about it.

“Professor Flitwick, Professor Viridian and I have checked it for every jinx, hex and curse we can think of,” she continued. “It appears to be clean. Maybe the card just got lost.”

“Thanks, Professor,” I said, holding the clasp tightly as I found my voice again.

“Well, Miss Cauldwell, that is all. And might I say how pleased I have been with your progress this year. You are showing a new aptitude for the subject.” There was a note of finality to her voice as she smiled again, and I had clearly been dismissed.

“Thanks, Professor,” I said again and, hoisting my bag over my shoulder, left the classroom.

I didn’t care if I was late for Herbology. I stopped outside the Transfiguration classroom then and there to attach the clasp to my school robes. And then, not sure it was sitting right, I went to the nearest toilets and checked it in the mirror. A couple of adjustments later and I was on my way, beaming at everyone I saw, even the Slytherins. The clasp was clean, it wasn’t jinxed, and it was the most stunning thing I owned, so I’d be damned if I wasn’t going to show it off to everyone.

I got to Herbology just as Professor Sprout sent us into Greenhouse Four. On the way inside, Lily looked at me questioningly, and I indicated the clasp now attached firmly to my robes.

She beamed at me and pointed it out to Mary. “You got it back! I knew it was going to be okay!”

“Looks bonny, too,” Mary said with a smile. “I’m happy fer ye.”

I was prevented from answering by Sprout, who had started lecturing us about the correct way to prune a Devil’s Snare. The trick apparently was to do it little by little, inch by inch, so it didn’t notice it was being pruned; if you took off too much at once it would immediately recognise you as a threat and try to strangle you. Pulling on our dragon-hide gloves, we prepared to spend a pleasant but careful hour pruning the plants.

“So it’s clean, then?” asked Mary as the three of us gathered around a Devil’s Snare.

“Seems so,” I said. “Hey, are there any more secateurs?”

Lily looked around. “Doesn’t look like it. She’ll have some more somewhere though.”

Nodding, I wandered up to Professor Sprout. However, I was so pleased with getting the clasp back that I wasn’t fully concentrating on where I was going (never a smart move in the greenhouses, where one of the plants might attack you), and realised too late I was about to walk into someone. Looking up, I saw Sirius who apparently was also missing secateurs, and had just reached for the last pair.

“Oh, sorry,” he said, turning around once he realised I was there. “Yours, I think.” And he handed them to me without hesitation.

“No,” I said. “You were here first, you should take them.”

“I insist,” he said, smiling, and I found myself pleasantly distracted by the change it made in him, the way his face lit up. Yep, I thought, definitely way too susceptible. “Ladies first.”

“You’re assuming I’m a lady,” I said, having located my voice. I noticed Sirius’ expression had changed slightly too, and he looked a mixture of pleased and confused. However, at my words he started visibly, and shook his head.

“I don’t assume, I know,” he said, pushing his hair out of his eyes. “Seriously. Take them. I’m sure Sprout’s got some more somewhere.” And if anyone could charm some more secateurs out of Professor Sprout’s supply sheds, I reasoned, it would be him.

I conceded defeat and took the secateurs graciously. “Thank you.” And I went back to Mary and Lily, my mind full of that smile.

_No, Laura, concentrate_ , I thought to myself. _You have a boyfriend. Stop daydreaming about someone you’ll never have and who most probably doesn’t even realise he’s flirting with you._ And I shook my head and made an effort to join in the girls’ conversation.

The lesson ended with us being given a sizeable assignment to compare the propagation techniques for the Mimbulus Mimbletonia and Bubotuber plants and suggest ways of improving growth rates, which was somewhat surprising as it had nothing to do with the lesson we’d just had. However, we had been studying Mimbulus the previous term (though not actually working on it – the plant was so rare even Hogwarts only had one of them) so perhaps it was a throwback to that to refresh our memories before exams. In any case, it was hefty job.

In fact, this side of the Easter holidays we definitely noticed an increase in our workloads as exams loomed ever nearer. Every new lesson seemed to provide another three-foot essay, new project or practical item to be practiced, and every teacher seemed to think we had endless hours in which to complete said assignments, when in fact it felt like every spare hour was already more than full.

However, if I was having trouble in sixth year it was nothing compared to Bertram’s experiences as a seventh-year. I hardly saw him, so busy was he with study for his upcoming NEWTs. We were lucky if we could find two or three hours a week together with our combined workloads, something even Martha noticed.

“Have you and Bertram broken up?” she asked in the common room after dinner.

“No,” I said. “He’s just really busy with study at the moment. They’ve piled on the homework with NEWTs coming up and he’s having trouble keeping up to date with it all.”

She looked at me shrewdly. “How much of him are you seeing these days?”

I considered. “A couple of times a week if we’re lucky. Plus mealtimes, though they’re getting more rushed too. It’s better than nothing, though.”

She smiled suddenly. “Oh well. Like you said, better than nothing. Just don’t forget what he tastes like, okay?”

Trust Martha to say something like that to get me thinking. She really did have a way with words sometimes.

To get my mind off it I pulled out my Herbology textbook to get a start on Professor Sprout’s essay. Mary and Lily were doing likewise, the theory being if we all worked on it at the same time we could bounce ideas off each other. Martha and Charlotte were doing some reading for their Arithmancy paper. I noticed the boys at a nearby table, having a whispered conversation with a large bit of parchment spread out in front of them.

Suddenly Remus frowned and peered at it more closely. “That can’t be right,” he said, elbowing Sirius in the ribs and pointing to a spot on the parchment.

Sirius leaned in as well. “Mother of Merlin,” he said, his gaze flicking to our table. He caught me watching them and quickly looked back at the parchment. “Wormtail, can you go check what they’re doing?”

“I think I can guess what they’re doing,” Peter said slowly, staring at the page.

“They can’t be,” said Sirius, his eyes still fixated on whatever it was.

“The map never lies, Padfoot,” Remus said.

James was looking very solemn. “Go on, Wormtail,” he said. “You know where it is. You can get past the tapestry and not get noticed. We’ll need proof before we can do anything.”

“Right,” said Peter, nodding. He looked over at our table quickly and scurried out of the common room.

James had taken control of the crisis, whatever it was. “Right, we need a strategy for this. As Moony said, the map never lies.” Like the others, his eyes were transfixed on the parchment on their table.

“We have to say something,” Sirius said immediately. “If it was me, I’d want to know.” James looked up and glanced at him with half a smile on his face.

“Shh,” said Remus, indicating our table, where there had been a conspicuous lack of quills moving across parchment since we had all stopped to listen. Chastened, we hurriedly turned to our homework again, feeling rather embarrassed. The boys went back to whispering among themselves.

About five minutes later Peter came back through the portrait hole, looking very serious. He glanced at our table again and nodded significantly at his friends.

“That lying, cheating bastard,” Sirius growled, his fist clenching. “I’ll kill him.”

“Settle, Padfoot,” James said warningly. “If it happens again, we’ll say something. And then you can do what you want.” And he glanced at our table and put a finger to his lips to remind them to keep it down.

Lily put down her _Encyclopaedia of Magical and Mundane Plants_ and quickly _Muffliato_ ’d the nearest groups of students. “Well,” she said, looking intently at us, “what was that all about?”


	23. Exposing the lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More than one misconception is turned on its head, not all of which is good news.

On Friday I had lunch with Betram, who had a free period afterwards which we decided to spend together before I went upstairs to get set into homework before the weekend started in earnest.

“We don’t do this nearly often enough,” he murmured into my ear as we settled ourselves in a nifty little alcove he’d discovered behind one of the staircases on the first floor.

“Don’t talk about that now,” I said. “Just make the most of the fact we’re together.”

He grinned at me. “I like the sound of that.” I smiled back and pulled him in closer.

He was right, we didn’t catch up nearly often enough and so I tried to make the most of it when we did. Within reason, of course – I was still wary of heading back into the Hufflepuff common room or, worse, his dorm, and therefore preferred to stay in places just a little more public. The seductive part of it was, of course, the fact when we were making out it meant we weren’t talking and that meant in turn I was less likely to stew over what was wrong with our relationship, instead focusing on what made it good. And lazy hours like this one certainly helped me do that.

Of course it was over much too soon and it seemed like no time had passed when we had to call a stop to it. “Bloody school,” Bertram grumbled as he put his arms around me again. “We have to do this again. Soon.”

I smiled as I reached up and kissed him. “Sounds good to me.”

We stayed for as long as we could but unfortunately we eventually did have to part, or at least we did if Bertram wanted to pass Charms, so at long last he grabbed his school bag and headed off to that class and I went in the opposite direction towards Gryffindor Tower.

The quickest route from Bertram’s little alcove took me past the library, and as I walked past its entrance the door suddenly opened and I was bowled over by Sirius, who was looking fraught as he barrelled along at a rate of knots. The collision was pretty forceful and we both ended up rather awkwardly on the floor.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to run into you like that,” he said apologetically as we picked ourselves up and I gathered my scattered books back into my bag. “I was just trying to escape …” His voice trailed off.

Getting back to my feet, I looked at him in confusion. “Escape? What from?”

He looked a little uncomfortable. “More like who from,” he muttered, and I looked up to see Elvira Vablatsky and Greta Catchlove standing at the open library door, noticing him talking to me and throwing death looks in my direction.

Sirius followed me around the nearest corner where I waited while he got himself sorted out, putting two or three library books into his bag. I grinned at him. “What, you don’t want to spend your afternoon with Elvira and her friends? Whyever not?”

He raised an incredulous eyebrow. “Do I really have to answer that?”

“Of course not,” I said, “but I thought it might give you an opportunity to vent your spleen a little. You look rather like you want to.”

He laughed. “Yes, fair enough, it can get a bit irritating. And all I wanted was to go in, grab a couple of books for that Herbology assignment, and get out again. And it ended up taking me –” he looked at his watch – “ _three quarters an hour_?” Plainly shocked it had been that long, he shook his head in frustration.

I looked back in the direction of the library, but Elvira and Greta had obviously decided not to follow him. Maybe that three quarters of an hour had been enough. “What were they doing this time?”

“Inviting me to Hogsmeade, believe it or not,” he said, making a face. “We don’t even know when the next visit will be, but they thought they’d get in early. And they had an answer for everything I said, too – I think they must have planned it or something.”

“Well, at least they weren’t trying to force feed you some amortentia or anything,” I said, trying not to laugh at his expression of discomfort and – was that embarrassment? Sirius Black, embarrassed by female attention? I mean, I knew he found Elvira and the fan club annoying, but it had never occurred to me their behaviour might embarrass him. I swallowed my surprise. “Did you want company back to the tower, just in case?”

He looked at me gratefully. “That’d be great, thanks,” he said, and we headed in the direction of the nearest staircase. “So,” he went on, “any brilliant ideas? What can I do about them? Pr- James and I haven’t come up with anything that’s worked yet.”

I giggled. “Drench them in dragon dung. It’d do it for me.”

He looked sideways at me. “Or Bubotuber pus?”

I shrugged, struggling to contain a grin. “Hey, why not? It’s worked once, it would probably work again.”

“Ah, but you need access to the Bubotubers,” he said, “and to be honest I’d rather not lead any of them into the greenhouses. They’d probably get ideas.”

“Yeah, you’ve got a point,” I conceded. “All right, how about one of Hagrid’s Nifflers?”

He shook his head, though he’d started to laugh. “Not enough jewellery,” he said when he could get a word out. “Now someone like Mulciber, on the other hand ...”

I giggled again, remembering what the Nifflers had done to him during Care of Magical Creatures in fifth year. “Oh, that medallion,” I said with exaggerated exasperation. “Someone really needs to tell him you can’t get away with that unless you’ve got at least _some_ hair on your chest.”

“What, the smooth-as-a-baby’s-bum look doesn’t appeal to you?” he asked with a grin.

“Not really,” I admitted, feeling a little discomfited to be discussing my personal preferences in this sort of thing with someone like Sirius. I decided to change the subject. “But that’s not really the point. If a boy wants to unbutton his shirt half way and wear a medallion he should at least have something to show, don’t you think?”

It worked – my change of subject went without comment. In fact, Sirius was still laughing and I found it rather hard not to join in: it really was quite infectious and something about him just seemed to set me off. “He may prefer the hairless look,” he said eventually. “You never know, he might have Charmed it all off. Why he’d want to, I have no idea, but …”

“You know, you could be on to something there,” I said through my giggles. “And does anyone else think it’s weird a boy wears more jewellery than any of the girls in the school? Or do you think he’s trying to tell us something?”

“Definitely trying to tell us something,” Sirius said. “Too bad Pritchard is so thick, otherwise she might have figured it out by now.”

“Either that or she thinks she’s got it made because he never tries anything,” I said dryly. Sirius stopped laughing for a second and looked sharply at me, but before I could work out his expression he’d looked away again, so I went on with my train of thought. “Or do you think it’s because of her that he’s leaning that way in the first place?”

“Now that I like,” he said, chuckling again. “Scylla Pritchard is _so_ appalling she’s turned him gay. I almost feel like spreading that as a rumour to see how long it takes to catch hold.”

“If you start it,” I said, “about five minutes. If someone else starts it, it could take a little while longer, maybe up to two or three days depending on how reliable the source is.”

“So if you started it?” he asked, his eyes sparkling.

I shrugged. “I’ve never started a rumour before – that I know of – so I’ve got no idea. Considering no one ever listens to me, though, I’m leaning towards about a week.”

“Now that’s got to be an exaggeration,” he said with a grin. “I would have put it more about the two-week mark.”

He was still smiling and I wondered what he would do if I succumbed to the sudden urge to grab a book out of my bag and hurl it at him. The heavier the better, of course. But I didn’t know him quite well enough to get away with something like that, so I settled for glaring at him. “Gee, thanks,” I said sarcastically. “It’s so nice to know how much I’m looked up to.”

He suddenly looked mortified. “You didn’t take me seriously, did you?”

I grinned. “Sirius Black, how much of anything you say should be taken seriously?” His face visibly relaxed. “If I took that sort of thing seriously, I’d have such an inferiority complex I’d never leave my dormitory.” I grinned as we reached the Fat Lady and Sirius, looking rather relieved, gave the password so we could go inside. “Well, it looks like you made it intact,” I said, having a quick look around the common room. “Not a groupie to be seen. Now do you think you can get up to your dorm without being molested, or would you like a chaperone up the stairs as well?”

He raised his eyebrows. “And you say you’ve never started a rumour? What do you think that would do?”

“Good point. Though to be honest, if anyone actually believed that I’d be worried. Let’s face it, it’s no more believable now than it was when that story went around last Christmas.” I mean, really, Sirius Black, Hogwarts pin-up, with someone as uninteresting as me? Yeah, right, like _that_ would ever happen. In any case I was somewhat relieved I didn’t need to accompany him up to the dorm and wasn’t even sure why I’d said it in the first place, preferring instead to join the other girls at the table by the window to try to get a start on my Defence homework from that morning. “At least it looks like you’ll be able to start that essay in peace and quiet,” I went on. “Have fun!” And I waved cheerfully as I crossed the common room and set myself up next to Lily and Mary, only vaguely aware he just stood there for a while looking thoughtful before disappearing up the boys’ stairs.

****

Saturday morning found me pulling things out of my trunk and emptying my bedside cabinet in a vain effort to locate my Charms textbook. We had an assignment due on Thursday and unfortunately the book was required, so wherever it had ended up last time I threw it in the direction of my trunk, I had to find it.

Mary noticed my agitation. “What are ye lookin’ fer?”

“I can’t find my copy of _Quintessence_ ,” I told her. “It’s here somewhere but I have no idea where.”

Charlotte giggled from the other side of the room. “Have you tried a Summoning Charm?”

I sat down and pulled out my wand, rather embarrassed something that simple had evaded my thought processes. “ _Accio Quintessence_!”

After a little while the book dislodged from its hiding place and landed in my hand, looking very much the worse for wear. The cover had ripped off and some of the pages were falling out, and checking its starting point (in between my bed and the wall) we found a number of other pages on the floor.

“Ugh,” I said. “Maybe I should have looked for it before.”

Lily pointed her wand at it. “ _Reparo_.” The book shuddered a little and two pages flew back inside it, but that was it. She shook her head. “Sorry, Laura. I thought that would work. Maybe I didn’t put enough thought into it …”

Mary grinned. “Anyone woul’ think ye’re no good a’ Charms. If it could be fixed, it would have. Here,” she said, pulling her copy of the book out of her trunk and handing it to me, “use mine, ye can give it back when ye’re done.”

I smiled at her gratefully. “Are you sure? I can probably repair it with Spellotape or something.”

“Don’ be daft,” she said. “Tha’ thing’ll fall apar’ the minute ye try t’ open it.”

I accepted her book, knowing she was right. “Thanks Mary. I’ll have it back to you in no time.”

And I meant to, I really did. Trouble was, it was soon Wednesday and I still had the book, and if she was going to use it for her own essay I would need to get it back to her soon. So with this in mind I went to meet her after my free period (in which I’d put some finishing touches on the paper concerned and done some more work on the Herbology assignment also due the next day) and her Muggle Studies class. However, my best intentions were stymied by Dione Turpin, of all people.

Not that Dione was actually there in person, it was more the effects of her actions. I headed to the second floor, where the classroom was, only to be greeted before I could even see her by Mary’s very characteristic laughter. (I swear, even that had a Scottish accent.) Rounding the corner, I saw her standing outside the classroom with James and Sirius, both of whom were looking a little concerned.

“Laura’ll back me up,” said Mary as she saw me, failing to suppress a giggle. “What do ye say t’ this, Laura, James has heard tha’ Lily only got in Slughorn’s goo’ books by offerin’ him favours, if ye know what I mean.”

Reaching them, I laughed too. “That is a good one. How bad would her taste have to be for that to be true?” I giggled with Mary and then caught James’ face. He looked worried sick. Catching myself, I said to him, “Don’t tell me you believed it?”

He seemed to take some solace from the fact both Mary and I thought the very idea was ridiculous. “You’re sure it’s not true, then?”

I shook my head and grinned at Mary. “Sounds like a Turpin Tale to me.”

Mary nodded. “Aye, one o’ her leas’ believable, too.”

I giggled. “Absolutely. I’d say the _Toadstool Tales_ had more truth to them. Or the ones Beedle the Bard wrote. Honestly, if Lily had been half as busy as those stories have made out over the years, she’d never have had time for anything else. And let’s face it, she’s been in Slughorn’s good books since first year, so she’d have to have got started pretty young.”

“What’s a Turpin Tale?” Sirius looked confused as we started to make our way downstairs for lunch.

“Rumour spread by Dione Turpin,” I explained. “You know the type.”

He shook his head. “No, I don’t,” he said, plainly baffled. “Is she known for this sort of thing?”

I laughed as I realised just how good Dione was at hiding her true nature from some people, and Mary clearly had the same reaction. “Tha’s right, ye’re male,” she said. “She’d never let anything slip in fron’ o’ ye. But aye, she’s bin sayin’ stuff lik’ tha’ since a’ least secon’ year.”

I smiled broadly at the incredulous faces of both boys and continued the explanation. “You remember that rumour that Lily had been plagiarising stuff from the library for her assignments and not writing them herself? That was a Turpin Tale. So was the story about Clio and Veronica having a thing together, and the one about Greta Catchlove being a House Elf in disguise. And the one saying Charlotte was having it off with Professor Mopsus, which is pretty similar to the current story, you might notice.”

James looked aghast. “But why would she say things like that?”

“Jealous, we suspect,” I said with a shrug. “She only picks on people she feels inferior to or threatened by so of course Lily, who’s pretty much perfect, is her prime target. But she’s also had a go at Charlotte, obviously, and Martha, and Elsie Barkwith, and Elvira, Rana Shafiq, and Deirdre Urquhart – pretty much everyone, really.”

“She is almost perfect, isn’t she,” said James quietly as if to himself, a dreamy look coming to his face as he obviously thought about Lily. He snapped out of it at a growled “Prongs!” from Sirius and went on. “But still, Turpin shouldn’t be saying stuff like that. If people start believing it she could do a lot of damage.”

Mary shrugged. “Only if, as ye said, folk start believin’ it an’ all. An’ no’ much has stuck so far, so she’s no’ bin doin’ tha’ goo’ a job.”

Sirius was frowning, and I remembered too late he’d gone out with Dione the previous year. _Oops_ , I thought, _maybe I should try to be more sensitive before I spout off about people_. He interrupted my slightly guilty reverie.

“Has she ever said anything about you?”

I looked at Mary and giggled a little. “Us? Goodness, no. We’re not anywhere near conspicuous enough.”

James looked puzzled. “Conspicuous?”

Mary laughed again. “Ye know, no one notices us. We fade int’ the backgroond, especially when someone lik’ Lily or Martha is aroond. So we’re almos’ immune t’ things lik’ Turpin Tales ’cause Dione hasn’ any reason t’ feel inferior t’ us.”

Sirius frowned again. “But that’s not right, you’re just as good as they are.” He sounded eerily like Remus had a year or so earlier.

“But we can’t compete with them,” I said placatingly. “Mary’s right. If Lily or Martha or Charlotte is in the room, who pays any attention to us? And don’t say it’s not like that,” I went on, cutting off an interruption I could see coming, “because you know it is. And we don’t mind, either, so don’t apologise. It’s just the way things are. And there’s times it’s nice, being close to invisible.”

Sirius looked like he wanted to say something, while James was shaking his head. “And to think you dated her, Padfoot,” he muttered. “We had no idea.”

I laughed. “Don’t worry about it, she’s a dab hand at hiding it. You two aren’t the only ones she’s hoodwinked. Anyway, how was Muggle Studies?”

Sirius groaned dramatically and shook his head. “I never thought it could happen, but Penrose has finally done the impossible.”

“And that is?” I asked.

“He’s managed to make a subject even more boring than History of Magic,” Sirius said, and Mary groaned as well and nodded vigorously.

“Not possible, surely,” I protested. “Nothing could be more boring than History of Magic.”

“I would have thought so too,” said James, “but Padfoot’s got a point. He got us started on Muggle economic systems. Currency trading and the gold standard and – what was that other one?”

“Controlled versus market economy,” Sirius said with an exaggerated shudder. “And something else that even I can’t remember, that’s how enthralling it was.”

“And that really weird thing where different countries have different money,” said James, shaking his head. “That’s just bizarre. How hard would that make it to travel?”

“Because that’s something you do every weekend, is it, James?” I said wryly. “Quick jaunts over to the continent or across the pond to America.”

Sirius chuckled at this while James grinned. “Well, maybe not, but Mum and Dad do like to take me away every summer holidays. But we stay in the wizarding areas as a rule, and of course they’ve all got the same currency. Imagine having to go into Gringott’s and change money every time you get into a new country, it’d be a nightmare!”

“Aye, it’s bad enough havin’ t’ change t’ poonds an’ all when we go int’ Muggle London,” Mary said.

“Well, if it’s any consolation,” I said, “even Muggles find that sort of thing boring. And they live with it every day.”

We had reached the Great Hall and Mary, James and Sirius automatically headed to the right to where the Gryffindor table was. I stayed in the middle of the hall, my eyes searching the adjacent Hufflepuff table for Bertram, who I had arranged to sit with. “See you later on!”

Sirius, who was last in the line, whirled around. “You’re not eating?”

I grinned. “Of course I am. I’m just with the Hufflepuffs today.” And I waved cheerfully as I made my way to where Bertram was waiting for me.

He beamed at me and budged up a little so I could fit in the spot he had saved for me. “Get your essay finished?”

“Almost,” I said, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before grabbing a plate and heaping it with beef casserole and mashed potatoes. “But I’ve got another free period after Ancient Runes so I should get it done then.” The next day, Thursday, was full-on, with double Transfiguration, then Charms, then double Herbology, so I liked to make sure I had most of my homework for it done before Wednesday night so I wasn’t in too much of a panic.

“Pleased to hear it,” he said, pouring me a pumpkin juice. “Does that mean you’re free tonight?”

I grinned. “I might just be,” I said. “What did you have in mind?” We saw each other so little these days, with the amount of homework we were both being set, it was almost a special treat to catch up. Bertram apparently felt the same way.

“What do you say to a picnic on the North Tower?” he asked with a wink. “I’ll grab some things from the kitchens on my way up.”

“Sounds like a plan,” I said. “I’ll just let Mary – oh, damn it!”

“What?”

“I’ve still got her Charms book.” I leaned down to my school bag and fished in it for some parchment and a quill. “I’ll flick her a note, that way I won’t forget to give it back to her.”

Bertram looked confused. “But didn’t you come in with her? I would have thought you’d have given it back then.”

“I meant to,” I said, flattening out my parchment on the table in front of me, “but we got waylaid by James and Sirius, they were taken in by a Turpin Tale, and I forgot about it.”

A bitter look crossed his face and I remembered too late he had something against them. I still hadn’t figured out what exactly it was because none of his explanations made much sense to me, but it was usually easier to avoid mentioning them entirely. Deciding I shouldn’t need to justify my friendship with them, I concentrated on scrawling a note on my parchment ( _I’ve still got your book – don’t let me leave the Hall without giving it back to you_ ) and, scrunching it up, threw it across the two tables to where Mary was sitting.

Unfortunately Mary put her drink down at just the wrong moment and the note I had thrown bounced off her goblet and fell to the floor. I didn’t think she’d even noticed it. Sirius, however, was next to her and did seem to have noticed, so I got his attention and tried to convey with hand gestures that the note was for Mary. He was looking rather irritated and appeared to be stabbing moodily at the food on his plate so I felt bad for interrupting him, but Mary needed the book for her Charms essay and I had Ancient Runes just after lunch.

Fortunately whatever was aggravating him – quite possibly, I reflected rather guiltily, what we had said earlier about Dione – didn’t extend to Mary’s note and he graciously picked it up and gave it to her. I smiled at him gratefully, then turned my attention to Mary. She opened the parchment, read it, and then looked for me at the Hufflepuff table, nodding her head and grinning as I caught her eye. Good. I beamed at her and turned to Bertram.

“Just don’t let me leave without giving it back to her,” I said, thinking if both he and Mary were to remind me then it wouldn’t slip my mind again.

“No problem,” he smiled, his arm reaching around my shoulders. I relaxed into him with a smile. Bertram went on. “I think I can let go of you for that long.”

“But no longer?” I asked, still smiling fondly as I looked up at him.

He gave me a squeeze and kissed me gently. “Definitely no longer. That, Laura, would take a lot of convincing for me to agree to.”

****

On top of everything else we had to do, we were told during our next Apparition lesson that for those students who were of age, there would be tests available to be taken in Hogsmeade in early May. This was greeted with a flurry of interest from the sixth-years, most of whom would be seventeen by that time if they weren’t already. Mary, however, didn’t have her birthday until the end of June and was feeling distinctly disgruntled.

“Tha’d be right,” she muttered in the common room after dinner. “Everyone else will be able t’ Apparate an’ I’ll be stuck behin’ waitin’ on a licence.” We were already well into our Charms homework so I was a bit surprised she was still thinking about it.

“Don’t be like that,” I said. “Tell you what, I’ll not take the test this time. I could probably do with the extra practice anyway. Then we’ll go to the Ministry in the holidays, after your birthday, and take the test together.”

She looked at me incredulously. “Why woul’ ye do tha’?”

“Let’s face it,” I said, “I’m still not the best at it.” And to illustrate my point I rubbed my eyebrow, which had needed to be reattached after the previous week’s lesson when I’d left it behind. “And I don’t feel the need to have my licence yet anyway. I’m happy to wait.”

She smiled at me. “If ye’re sure, then.”

I smiled back. “Of course I am. I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t.”

“Thanks, Laura. I knew ye were a goo’ frien’.”

I went back to my attempt at Spellotaping my copy of _Quintessence: A Quest_ back together and Mary started back on the latest essay _Quintessence_ was supposed to be helping us with. Before long, however, we were interrupted by the portrait hole opening noisily and I looked up to see Sirius rushing into the room. He looked around, visibly agitated, until he found our table.

“Laura, I am so sorry, but you’ve got to see this,” he said, gasping for breath and obviously in a hurry. “Come on.” I looked at him, baffled. “NOW!” he shouted.

Figuring it was easier than arguing the point I got up to follow him, and he grabbed my hand and virtually yanked me through the portrait hole. Once out, he pulled out the two-way mirror. “Prongs! Got her,” he whispered, nodding significantly. “Don’t let them leave.”

“Are you going to tell me what this is about?” I asked as he pulled me along corridors and down staircases. More than once we took short-cuts I hadn’t previously known about, using tunnels hidden behind suits of armour or random paintings.

“You have to see,” was all he would say. “So long as we’re not too late …” He was still clutching my hand and it felt like my arm was going to be pulled from its socket – his longer legs were propelling us much faster than I felt comfortable going.

Finally we reached the tapestry of Andros the Invincible, where I had seen him talking to his brother on his birthday all those months ago. James and Remus appeared from nowhere, James raising an eyebrow at Sirius who promptly let go of my hand.

I was panting, worn out from the multi-storey sprint we had done. Sirius looked at me and said again, very quietly, “I am _so_ sorry.” I was about to say something but James held up a finger to keep me quiet and let me catch my breath before grabbing the tapestry and tapping it with his wand. It immediately came crashing to the floor, revealing a secret passageway and, at its entrance, a couple locked in a tight embrace. Their surprised faces turned towards us and revealed a seventh-year Ravenclaw girl and – Bertram.


	24. Bertram's end

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fallout from the last chapter’s revelation. Needless to say Laura’s not particularly impressed with her boyfriend’s behaviour.

Bertram.

Bertram with a girl.

Bertram with a girl who wasn’t me.

Hands all over her – well I knew what that felt like, though seeing him doing it to someone else was a little like an out-of-body experience. Shirt half off, belt undone and trousers open, and her robes pulled up around her thighs. Snogging as though their lives depended on it. And he was supposed to be _my_ boyfriend?

So this was what Sirius had wanted to show me. My boyfriend being a little too friendly with someone else. I didn’t know what I had expected to see when the tapestry fell, but I did know it wasn’t that.

In any case, I stood there in shock for what seemed an eternity. Suddenly I found my voice. “Something you wanted to tell me, Bertram?”

“Laura! It’s not what it looks like! I can explain!” He sounded panicked, fumbling as he tried to do his trousers back up.

“I think it’s pretty obvious what it is,” I said, mustering as much dignity as I could find under the circumstances.

“No! Please!” He looked hopefully at James, Sirius and Remus, who had cold fury emanating from them.

“I’ve seen enough,” I said coldly. “How about you just keep on doing whatever you _think_ it is you’re doing. Do whatever you like – or _who_ ever you like. I don’t care. I never want to see you again.” And I turned on my heel and walked calmly away.

At least, I hoped it was calmly. I had a storm raging inside me but I was determined to get out of sight before I let it take over. After what seemed like forever I reached the bend in the corridor where I had hidden back in November and, rounding it, sank to the floor and leaned up against the wall, relieved to be out of sight.

I was sure I had steam coming out of my ears. Why did he do it? How could he do that to me? What did I do wrong? After everything he’d said, after all the romantic gestures, how he’d behaved over the holidays, insisting on meeting my parents and everything, how could he do that? I wasn’t sure if I was more angry or upset. I didn’t love him but I was fond of him and had been increasingly growing fonder, and he had seemed so sincere. Plainly I wasn’t as good at reading people as I had thought.

And I understood why Sirius had refused to say anything on the way downstairs, why I’d had to see. Because if they’d just told me it was happening I may not have believed them. Bertram didn’t like them at all and I had the impression the feeling was mutual, so I could well have thought they were just trying to discredit him for whatever reason. But this, this was proof. There was no talking his way out of this, there was nothing else he could possibly have been doing. And to think I’d been starting to actually believe him when he’d said how special he thought I was, how exceptional, how beautiful …

Through my inner turmoil I heard footsteps moving quickly away, and I wondered if the boys were letting Bertram escape or if they would do something to him for me. Make him suffer. “Thanks, Wormtail,” said James’ voice, sounding further away than it actually was.

Sirius had come around the corner to check on me. “Geez, I am so sorry,” he said again, seeing my face as he sat down next to me. “But you had to know.”

“Did I?” I asked scathingly. “What if I was happier not knowing?”

“It would have hurt more in the long run,” he said, putting an arm around my shoulders and giving me a squeeze. It was warm and surprisingly comforting and I allowed myself to relax. “Would you rather have gone on, maybe for months, and then found out about it?”

I thought about it. “Probably not,” I said finally. “But why would he do that?”

Sirius shook his head. “I can’t work it out either. He needs his head read. He must have known what would happen.”

It was a bit feeble but I appreciated the show of support, and he gave me another squeeze as we sat there, me feeling rather comforted by his presence as I attempted to work my way through what were definitely some conflicting emotions. My eyes were dry but I wasn’t sure how long they’d remain that way, though I was doing a fairly good job at keeping the tears at bay for the time being. Eventually I felt ready to stand again and Sirius helped me up and back around the corner to the scene of the crime, his comforting arm still around my shoulders.

I stopped dead. Peter and Remus had disappeared, but Bertram was still there, thankfully fully clothed by now. It looked like he was in a full body bind and his head had ballooned to double its normal size. James had levitated him and was pushing him along the corridor impatiently.

“Thanks,” I said weakly.

James turned around and looked at me. “How’s she doing?” he asked Sirius.

“Holding up,” he said. I nodded, though I suspected it looked a little half-hearted. “I think she needs food though.”

James surveyed me critically, then nodded too. “Chocolate. She’ll feel like she’s been through a Dementor attack. Take her down to the kitchens. I’ll find somewhere prominent to dump this git.”

I found I didn’t mind them talking about me as if I wasn’t there. Somehow it was easier to not actually participate in the conversation. James was right, I did feel a bit like I’d encountered a Dementor, and it wasn’t a particularly nice sensation.

“You all right to walk?” Sirius asked me. “It’s not far, just down from the Great Hall – do you think you can make it?”

I took a deep breath, wondering if I needed to convince him or myself. “Should be able to.”

“That’s the spirit,” he said, dropping his arm from my shoulder and taking my hand instead. “Let me know if you’re having trouble, though, okay?” He began to lead me through the very passageway Bertram and his hussy had been hiding in, which went down steeply, in some places becoming stairs. Every now and then he said “Duck,” as the roof dipped significantly and then levelled out again. Fortunately we were now moving much more slowly than we had on the way down from Gryffindor Tower – I didn’t think I would physically have been able to go at that pace again. Eventually we emerged from behind a statue and, after moving down another couple of corridors, stopped next to a still life of a bowl of fruit.

We were unnervingly close to the entrance to the Hufflepuff common room and I felt more than a little on edge just being there. Luckily, however, we weren’t there long. Dropping my hand, Sirius tickled the pear and the painting giggled and swung from the wall, revealing the Hogwarts kitchens.

I had never seen so many house elves in my entire life. Upon seeing us, they clamoured around like a class of primary school children, none any taller than waist height, all offering their services to Sirius, who they seemed to know well.

“Mr Black! Mr Black! How can Totty help Mr Black?” came a high pitched voice, only to be outdone by what seemed like hundreds of like voices as they all clamoured around him. Sirius started laughing.

“Hey, hey, calm down,” he said, waiting for the palaver to subside. “Now, everyone, this is Laura. Laura has just had a bad shock. I was thinking she needs chocolate, maybe some treacle tart, that sort of thing. What can you do for her?”

I was instantly bombarded by house elves. “Miss Laura, here is some food!” squeaked one, forcing on me a tray containing a pile of chocolate frogs, some éclairs, a slice of treacle tart and a jam doughnut. Another house elf was trying to give me a huge mug of hot chocolate with at least a dozen marshmallows in it. I felt a bit overwhelmed, so was relieved when Sirius again took control and grabbed the tray and mug from me.

“You’ve been more than kind,” he called above the general turmoil, and the excitable elves rushed to him once again. “Thanks, all of you. But I think we’d better be going.” And, expertly balancing the tray on one hand, he grabbed my hand with his other one and led me out of the kitchens.

“So that was the kitchen,” I said as he settled me in an empty classroom nearby, though thankfully well out of sight of the corridor that led to the Hufflepuff common room. We’d had to wait for a moment as a ghost glided out through the back wall, but it was now free for us to use. “Is it always so chaotic?”

He shrugged. “Pretty much. They’re always really keen to help.”

“And I used to think you lot were so smart, raiding the kitchens for food all the time,” I said, unwrapping a chocolate frog and grabbing it absent-mindedly before it jumped away. “You’re not exactly forcing them at wandpoint to hand it over, are you?”

He grinned as he watched me wolf down another chocolate frog and start on the treacle tart. “You feeling better now?”

“Yeah, I am,” I realised. “Thanks.” I started on the hot chocolate.

He watched me in silence for a while, distractedly raking his fingers through his hair. “I meant what I said before,” he said eventually. “This way will be easier in the long run.”

“I know,” I said with a sigh. “Doesn’t make it easy now, though.” Suddenly a thought came to me and I looked up at him. “How did you know about it?”

He hesitated. Finally he reached into his robes and pulled out a blank piece of parchment and, unfolding it, laid it on the nearest desk and tapped it lightly with his wand. “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.” Suddenly it sprung to life, with lines and dots reaching to all corners of the parchment, which now I looked at it was rather large. I suspected it was the same thing we had seen them poring over in the common room a couple of weeks earlier. He beckoned me over.

“It’s a map,” he said as I bent down to look at it. “The gang and I wrote it.”

I looked at him in awe. “But this is incredible! It shows everybody at Hogwarts on it!” Sure enough, it did – the map, which seemed to feature every room and passage in the castle, also had little dots moving around it, each accompanied by a name in miniscule writing. I looked up at him. “What did you use, a Homonculous Charm?”

He nodded, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Yes, that one took a while to get right. I think I fried about a dozen sheets before I got it.”

“ _You_ did it?” Of course, thinking about it, it made sense, as he wasn’t far behind Greta Catchlove in Charms, but still. A Homonculous Charm? That was beyond NEWT level, from what I’d heard about it.

He just shrugged again and, sensing he wasn’t in the mood for compliments, I looked back at the map. In a room near the kitchens I could see two dots labelled ‘Laura Cauldwell’ and ‘Sirius Black’, indicating where we were. Finding the Gryffindor common room, I could see ‘Lily Evans’ and ‘Remus Lupin’ next to each other, probably discussing prefect duties, and ‘Martha Hornby’ and ‘Charlotte Trimble’ looked like they were at the table I’d been sitting at before all this started. I grinned despite myself when I noticed ‘Mary Macdonald’ and ‘Marcus Ogden’ in an empty classroom just down the hall – at least Mary’s boyfriend chose _her_ to make out with. Looking further over the parchment, I noticed several passageways I hadn’t previously been aware of, and ‘Severus Snape’ was moving quickly down one of them that came out near what appeared to be the Slytherin common room. In addition, there were a number of tunnels leading out of the castle which went off the boundaries of the map in the direction of Hogsmeade.

He let me have a good look at the map before he spoke again. “We were checking the map to come – well, down here, actually, to the kitchens for a night-time feast – when we saw them in a small enclave behind that tapestry with the dancing trolls on it. Well, what else would they be doing in a place like that at nine o’clock at night? So we sent Wor- Peter out to check – he’s, er, good at sneaking around without being seen – and he came back and confirmed it.” He stopped as I looked up sharply, my brain finally working out the implications of what he’d just said.

“You’re saying this has happened before?”

“Yep. We found out just after the holidays.” I nodded, leaning in closer to the map and staring at the spot Bertram and the Ravenclaw girl had been. Sirius had sat down on the desk opposite. “I wanted to tell you straight away, myself, but Pr- James said it might’ve been a one-off, that these things can happen even in the best relationships. You know, caught off guard, a moment of weakness, that type of thing. And you never know, he might have got a fit of the guilts and told you himself… So James thought we should wait … and if it happened again … then we’d … tell you …”

His voice trailed off and I looked up at him, wondering if he’d meant to stop there because I had the feeling he hadn’t. And he did look somewhat distracted, eyes glazed over a little, though I couldn’t for the life of me think why. Noticing me watching him, however, he very quickly came to, shaking his head a bit and looking almost embarrassed as he put his feet on a chair in front of him and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees and his hands clasped together. “Right. Well, since then we’ve been checking periodically to see if they did it again, and, well, tonight they did. So we put Pete inside the tunnel to stop them escaping that way, and James and Remus stood guard in the passageway under James’ Invisibility Cloak, and I – “ He paused again as I looked up once more: it was my turn to be distracted.

“James has an Invisibility Cloak?” That had to be how he and Remus had seemed to appear out of nowhere. But really, piles of gold, a two-way mirror, and now this? Not to mention looks, popularity, sporting ability and brains. What did the boy not have? (Oh yeah. The girl of his dreams. But I was pretty sure that was coming.)

Sirius waved a hand impatiently. “Yeah, yeah, he has an Invisibility Cloak. Anyway, they stood guard and I came to get you. You know the rest.”

“I’m glad I dumped him, then,” I said, and my voice sounded more bitter than I’d intended. “James is right, once you can sometimes explain away, but twice …” I trailed off, not able to think of something to say that didn’t sound petty and vindictive, and made my way back to my original seat, my gaze focused on my plate. I had finished the treacle tart and started on the jam doughnut, the last thing on my tray, and I was definitely feeling better. In fact, from this distance, I was almost okay my relationship with Bertram was over – at least I wouldn’t spend any more time fending him off or trying to justify who I talked to. Though, come to think of it …

“What did you do to him?” I asked, looking up again, though I was pretty sure I knew.

“Full body bind, simple Engorgement Charm,” he said, looking at me carefully. “We wanted to make his head a more appropriate size, considering what he thought he was good enough to get away with.” He was still watching me, looking for any reaction.

I smiled wanly. “And where did James leave him?”

Sirius came back over to the table and scanned the map. “Outside Dumbledore’s office, by the looks of things.” I smiled to myself briefly – I didn’t even know where Dumbledore’s office was. “He’ll find him when he comes out in the morning,” Sirius went on. He looked sharply at the map for a second, but the expression of unease was gone as soon as I noticed it, and he shrugged quite unconcernedly.

“But you’ll get in trouble!” I said, suddenly horrified they would have to go through a detention because of me. I found I was much less worried about Bertram, with his swollen head, having to stay on a cold stone floor all night, unable to move.

He raised his eyebrows. “So? We’ll cop that. It was worth it.” I looked at him quizzically. “Look, Laura, it’s not like we’ve never done detentions before,” he said, pushing his hair out of his eyes. “It will probably even be fun, if they don’t split us up again. And he deserved it, he should never have done that to you in the first place.”

I nodded vaguely, not really concentrating on what he was saying as my mind went at a million miles an hour. Despite the chocolate – and I did feel a bit better, I hadn’t been lying about that – the full implication of what Bertram had done was beginning to sink in and I was starting to feel in danger of breaking down, and I didn’t want to do that in front of Sirius. That was what people like Mary were for, after all. So I stood up, surprising myself by doing it without too much effort and without shaking, and said, “I think I’d like to go back to the tower now.” My voice still wasn’t at its usual tone, but it was getting there.

“Of course,” Sirius said, reaching for my hand again. “I’ll get you back in one piece.” He paused. “Oh – and Laura?”

I looked up at him. “Yes?”

“Would you mind not mentioning the map to anyone? We don’t want word about it getting out, we’d never hear the end of it.”

I nodded. “Of course not.” I’d assumed that went without saying. The map was clearly one of the boys’ secrets and I’d felt privileged to have been allowed to see it.

He smiled. “Thanks.” And with that he picked up the map with his other hand and, flicking it expertly, got it in the right place to check the corridors to make sure we didn’t encounter Filch, Mrs Clay, Peeves, or anyone else who might not take kindly to us being out after curfew.

Once back in the common room, following a couple of detours to avoid the night time patrols, I thanked him again and headed straight up to the dorm. Mary, who was obviously back from her own detour with Marcus and had seen me come in, followed almost immediately.

“I heard what happened,” she said. “Remus came an’ tol’ us an’ then James came back wi’ some more details an’ all. He said ye were in the kitchens gettin’ some food?”

“Yeah, Sirius took me in,” I said, suddenly realising what that would sound like to, say, Elvira.

“Are ye okay?”

I shook my head and all of a sudden I was crying. All the anger and pain and frustration came to the surface and I couldn’t stop myself. “So much for feeling wanted.”

“He’s a lyin’, cheatin’ scumbag who doesn’ deserve someone as good as you,” said Mary loyally, as Lily, Martha and Charlotte all joined us in the dorm.

“Laura, we’re so sorry!” said Lily. “James and Remus told us what happened. How could he do that to you?”

I smiled at her through the tears. No matter how bad I felt, the indignation the girls were showing on my behalf was certainly comforting. “I thought I knew him,” I said, hiccoughing, aware my cheeks were wet and my eyes red. “And I thought he was special. Now, I guess he’s not.”

“Anyone who can do that to a person is definitely not special,” Charlotte said, squeezing my hand.

“But why did he do it?” I asked. “What did I do wrong?”

“Don’t be silly, you did nothing wrong,” said Lily, sitting next to me and stroking my hair gently. “He just didn’t realise how good he had it. Deserves everything he gets.”

I smiled again despite myself. “Even if it comes from James and Sirius?”

Lily nodded. “Even then,” she admitted. “Actually, I don’t think I could choose anyone better at it than they are.”

“They go’ caugh’, too,” Mary said suddenly. “James, tha’ is. Filch foond him ootside Dumbledore’s office tryin’ t’ dump Bertram.”

“What!!” I sat up on my bed, horrified. Of course. They most probably only had one map, and Sirius had it which meant James wouldn’t have been able to see where Filch was patrolling. They’d decided my need was greater than theirs. I’d never realised they had that in them.

“Yeah, he did,” said Martha. “Apparently Filch went straight to Dumbledore, who reversed the jinxes and got the story from Bertram. And James didn’t deny anything.” She paused. “Bertram named James and Sirius as the ones who had done it – I guess Peter and Remus had gone by then?” She looked enquiringly at me.

“Yeah, they left,” I said.

“Right, so he named James and Sirius, and they’ve each been given a double detention. I guess Sirius has found out about that now, too.”

I sank back down again. Sirius had told me that would happen, had been completely blasé about the whole thing, but I felt terrible that they had done this for me and been rewarded with a double detention. I felt like going to Dumbledore and asking to serve it with them, as it was my fault they’d done it in the first place.

“Who was the girl? Do we know her?” asked Mary.

I shrugged. She had looked vaguely familiar but frankly I didn’t care who she was. “Some tart from Ravenclaw. Obviously she’ll put out, which I’m guessing would be why he chose her.” My voice, while still a little weak, sounded more bitter than I had intended it to.

Lily looked at me sternly. “Don’t you ever think this is your fault because of _that_. If he really cared about you he’d respect your decision and not be pressuring you all the time. If he didn’t really care, then he was only after one thing and you’re better off rid of him.”

I thought about it. What she said made sense, and when my mind was in less turmoil I’d probably appreciate the advice. “Thanks,” I said, still a bit weakly. This had taken more out of me than I had realised.

“I thought Hufflepuffs were supposed to be loyal,” Charlotte mused. “Bertram mustn’t have got that owl.”

“They are loyal,” Martha said. “Bertram’s loyalty just happens to reside with his you-know-what rather than with his girlfriend.” I smiled wryly – while not the words I might have used, she did have a point. “I’d offer to plot revenge,” she went on, “but it looks like the boys have beaten us to it. Unless you wanted him to suffer any more?”

I thought about it. “I don’t know,” I said. “I feel like he’d deserve it, but then I’m not sure he’s worth spending the extra effort on.”

Lily nodded. “Well, if you do decide you want us to do something, just say the word. We’d be happy to.”

Mary pretended to look scandalised. “Is this a prefec’ offerin’ t’ break the rules?”

Lily put on her best ‘I wasn’t doing anything’ face. “Of course not,” she said, eventually failing to hide her grin. “At least, not any rules worth worrying about. However, if Bertram happens to be in the way when I’m practicing my spells, I won’t be held accountable.”

I had stopped crying and my cheeks were drying at a rate of knots. Charlotte was sitting on the bed holding my hand, and Martha had started rummaging through her trunk. “Chocolate?” she asked brightly, holding up a block of Honeydukes.

I shook my head. “Thanks, but I’ve had heaps. Sirius took me to the kitchens afterwards to help me calm down.”

“That’s right,” said Martha, shaking her head at herself. “James did say, but I’d forgotten. Well, since I’ve got it out … anyone else?”

Mary, Lily and Charlotte all helped themselves to a chunk of Honeydukes’ finest and lay on the beds talking about men, in particular hurling abuse at those deemed unworthy for whatever reason. Oddly enough, that night Bertram was at the top of that list. It was, however, a conversation I didn’t really need to participate in which suited me just fine, especially since my brain was in turmoil and I was having trouble concentrating on anything. And then, out of the blue and surprising me by how reassuring it felt, it occurred to me that I’d just spent the best part of an hour and a half holding hands with Sirius Black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We already knew what they did to Bertram Aubrey - this is just my interpretation of why. Hope you enjoyed it! :)


	25. Intrusions and epiphanies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once she finally gets rid of Bertram once and for all, Laura has a sudden realisation that is not necessarily to her benefit. Actually, she’s horrified. But these things do happen …

One good thing about dating someone from a different year group is when you break up, it’s much easier to avoid them. Bertram and I didn’t have any classes together and we weren’t in the same House so steering clear of him was, in theory, simpler than it had been when Cadmus and I had broken up in fourth year.

However, Bertram apparently had other ideas. He kept approaching me when I arrived in the Great Hall at mealtimes and hovering outside my classrooms waiting for me to finish, all the time trying to get me to reconsider. I reflected somewhat bitterly that I was probably seeing more of him now we’d broken up than I had when we’d still been together.

Fortunately the other sixth-year Gryffindors had taken my side and provided a protective barrier between us. Never had I been so pleased I had so many classes with James and Sirius – they were certainly the most intimidating boys in the year (save some of the scarier-looking Slytherins) and they were absolutely furious with Bertram, meaning they moved in to protect me every time he appeared.

For the first few days after I dumped him, I was pretty upset with him and was keen to avoid seeing him at all. I sat with my back to the Hufflepuff table at mealtimes and Mary and Lily made a point of stationing themselves on either side of me, giving me occasional hugs and talking about anything but boys. James and Sirius often sat directly opposite and usually had their wands on the table in front of them, most probably as a deterrent to Bertram coming up behind me to try to talk to me (though my proximity to Lily was most probably an added bonus as far as James was concerned). Whether he did actually try to talk to me or not I couldn’t say with any certainty, however, as whenever the boys glared at someone over my head and fingered their wands viciously I made a point of not turning around. It was easier said than done, but I managed it.

However, one day almost a week after we broke up, Bertram managed to slip through the protective net and talk to me. I was leaving Ancient Runes with Remus – probably my most vulnerable time as he and I were the only Gryffindors in the class – and heading downstairs to lunch.

“Laura!” I recognised his voice but still stopped automatically, more out of habit than anything.

“What is it you want?” I asked, noticing Remus had also stopped and had his wand hand inside his robes.

“I need to explain,” said Bertram, almost desperately. He had reached us by now and glanced nervously at Remus before turning back to me. “Can we talk? Alone?”

“You can’t have anything to say to me that Remus can’t hear,” I said. “But no. I don’t want to talk to you. Ever.”

“But it wasn’t what it looked like!” He sounded rather forlorn, and part of me started enjoying his discomfort.

Remus stepped in. He was the same height as Bertram but he did a good glare and Bertram seemed to shrink in comparison. “We all saw it, Aubrey,” he said. “And it’s not like you were rehearsing a play or anything. What else could it be?” Remus was slow to anger but when he did it could be terrifying, something Bertram was just discovering.

Bertram looked shaken. “Okay, it was. But it was a lapse! A one-off! I didn’t even enjoy it!” He looked searchingly at me. “It would never have happened again, Laura. Please believe me.”

Behind me I heard a sour laugh that sounded a bit like a bark. Only one person laughed like that: Sirius. I smiled to myself – there was safety in numbers and Sirius was a powerful friend to have. And, usually, where Sirius went, there went James as well. I turned around to see them both, and Peter, walking purposefully along the passage towards us with their wands out, and a feeling of comfort and security flooded through me.

“A one-off? Really? That’s not what I heard,” Sirius said, a very ugly look on his face. He gave his wand a swish and Bertram was suddenly propelled backwards across the floor and into the stone wall on the other side of the corridor, hitting it with rather a loud thud. And there he stayed, apparently unable to move away, looking most uncomfortable and with his whole body shaking a little, Sirius’ wand still trained on him. Whatever spell he was being held with was obviously a powerful one.

James nodded. “Yeah, it happened at least twice that we know of,” he said, making a show of fingering his wand as well. “And Peter is our witness.”

Bertram was getting red-faced in his discomfort. “Witness? You can’t have a witness.” He composed himself as best he could behind the spell that was holding him back. “Because it didn’t happen.” He looked back at me, almost begging me to believe him.

I looked at Peter. “Tell him what you saw.”

Peter stood with his hands behind his back and started almost reciting. “You and Esther Davies were behind the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy on the seventh floor. There’s a small enclave behind it that will just fit two people, if they’re standing close together. It was nine o’clock at night on Tuesday the nineteenth of April, I was going past on my way back to Gryffindor Tower after a detention and heard a noise so I peeked behind the tapestry to investigate. You were so busy – erm – doing other things, that you didn’t notice me.”

I knew at least part of that wasn’t true – Peter hadn’t been on his way back to the tower after detention – but the rest was most probably accurate. From the way the colour was draining from Bertram’s face, I decided it was.

James’ face was stony as he walked towards Bertram and stared down at him. At about six foot he was only a couple of inches taller but he made that seem significant. “Care to explain your way out of that, Aubrey?”

Bertram mumbled something incomprehensible to the floor, then looked back at me. “Laura, I can make it up to you. I promise. Please? I … I love you!”

I blinked. The first time he’d said it, the first time anyone other than my family had ever told me that, and I didn’t believe a word of it. Could my choice of boyfriends be any worse?

“No you don’t,” I said, hoping the tears I could feel coming stayed put. “You barely know me. If you love anyone, it’s the person you think I am, because you never bothered to find out if she and I actually had anything in common.”

He looked gobsmacked and I felt rather pleased with myself. I thought I might even be able to get out of this without crying.

“Of course I know you,” he protested, rather feebly I thought. “You’re wonderful. I’m crazy about you.”

I shook my head again. “You can’t be. Because if you were, you’d never have run around with someone else behind my back.” James and Sirius made noises of agreement behind me and I felt buoyed by their support. Looking coldly at Bertram, who seemed speechless, I gave him what I hoped was my most disdainful look. “Anyway, Bertram, what part of ‘I never want to see you again’ did you not understand? Because I meant it. I’ll even say it again if you’re not convinced.” I paused for dramatic effect. “I never want to see you again.” And I walked past him towards the stairs that would take me down to the Great Hall.

Remus soon caught up with me and put a comforting arm around my shoulders, which were threatening to start shaking. “Well done,” he said in that wonderful measured voice of his. Remus was always a lovely calming influence and could defuse almost any situation when he chose to – in this case, me looking like I was about to burst into tears.

“I just hope it worked,” I said, my eyes still welling up a little. “So he stops bugging me. I don’t need a constant reminder of how stupid I was.”

“You weren’t stupid,” he said. “Things like that have been happening for time immemorial and it’s got nothing to do with being stupid. If anything, you were smart enough to get out once you found out.”

I smiled at him, though I felt rather drained. “Thanks. But where are the others?” I had just realised we were alone.

“Probably making sure he knows not to bother you again,” Remus said. “I suspect we don’t want to know exactly what they’re up to. Remember, if we don’t know then we can’t testify against them.” We arrived in the Entrance Hall and he gave me a quick squeeze before dropping his arm from my shoulder as we made our way into the Great Hall for lunch, probably not wanting to start any rumours or give Dione any ammunition for one of her stories.

I was rather surprised when a minute or two later I saw Bertram enter the Great Hall, obviously freed from whatever holding spell Sirius had used on him and seemingly unhexed and unscathed. Remus and I looked up at James, Sirius and Peter, who had also just arrived and sat down opposite us.

“What, no feathers?” I asked. “I’m almost disappointed.”

James shook his head. “We just had a bit of a talk with him,” he said. “Said that if he’s going to do such a dumb thing then he’s got to be prepared for the consequences.”

Remus raised his eyebrows. “And those consequences don’t involve you cursing him into next week?”

Sirius grinned. “Tempting, but no. But don’t worry, if he tries to talk to Laura again we will. Call it a warning.”

I wasn’t convinced. “What did you say to him?”

“What Prongs said,” said Sirius, fixing his eyes on me. “I think it’s a case of not knowing what you’ve got till you lose it. And he’s just realising that.” He almost made it sound like I was someone worth having and I appreciated the show of support.

James nodded, heaping sausages and jacket potatoes onto his plate. “He’ll beat himself up about it just as much as we could,” he said. I raised my eyebrows incredulously but if James noticed he ignored it. “Makes it much easier for us, too,” he went on. “He suffers and we get to watch it and don’t even get detention for it. It’s a win-win situation.” He grinned at us.

Remus was nodding. “I can’t argue with that,” he said, looking over his shoulder towards the Hufflepuff table. “He looks pretty miserable.”

“Serves him right,” I said. “I hope he’s so cut up he fails all his NEWTs because of it.”

Sirius laughed. “Are you sure? That might mean he’s back again next year.”

I shook my head. “Nah, he wouldn’t have the guts to front up. Not with you lot around. I don’t know if you’ve noticed but he finds you a bit intimidating.”

James grinned. “We’d figured as much. Which is why we came to meet you after class today. And I’m sorry we were late, we got held up.”

Peter smiled reminiscently. “Poor Snivellus. He never should have tried to stop us.”

Remus and I looked at each other and shook our heads, though we were both smiling. “Now we _definitely_ don’t want to know,” said Remus, and we focused on finishing our lunch.

****

I wasn’t the only one with boyfriend troubles. Charlotte and Hector Bole had also broken up, though in less sensational circumstances – it was more of an understanding it wasn’t going anywhere and they weren’t actually all that interested in each other. While she wasn’t quite as upset as I had been she was still down in the dumps, convinced that no one would ever find her attractive, and it was a good distraction for me to help her get through it as she had helped me. It was probably also a good thing Mary, Lily and Martha were around to ensure we didn’t just feed off each other’s misery and end up wallowing in self-pity.

Fortunately for us our teachers seemed to have a similar idea and were piling on the homework even harder than they had been previously. Our exams were coming up in less than two months and every class seemed to emphasise this point, which managed to succeed in taking our minds off any personal problems we might be having.

We were further distracted one evening a week or two later when we went back into the dorm after supper, only to find someone else had been in there. Not that it was ransacked or anything, but it had certainly been, well, looked at, for want of a better term. This was confirmed by the odd behaviour of Mary’s cat, Circe, who pounced on us as soon as the door was opened, her claws sticking into Mary’s arm where she had lodged herself.

“Something’s not right,” said Martha, screwing up her face as she looked around the dorm.

“No,” said Lily. “It’s almost like someone else has been in here.”

I looked at my bedside cabinet. The clock and book I kept there were definitely not in the same place they’d been that morning, and when I opened the cupboard below the books were stacked in there in a much neater pile than I had left them in. “Yeah, like they’ve searched it or something.”

“Hoo strange,” Mary muttered, trying in vain to extricate her sleeve from the cat’s claws. “An’ whoe’er it was, they’ve freaked Circe oot badly.” She started trying to calm her down, stroking her back and making soothing noises.

Martha looked around critically. “Anything missing?”

We all had a quick look through our things but no one could think of anything that should have been there but wasn’t. The whole thing was, to tell the truth, decidedly baffling.

That is, it _was_ baffling until Lily opened the door to the bathroom and groaned loudly. “I think I’ve worked it out,” she said over her shoulder.

“Who?” Charlotte went to her eagerly, and Lily pulled a note off the bathroom mirror and handed it to her. Charlotte read it and groaned as well.

“What?” My curiosity was getting the better of me.

“This is what it says,” said Charlotte, sitting on Martha’s bed, which was nearest. “Dear Lily, Laura, Charlotte, Mary, and Martha. Thanks so much for allowing us to have a look at your dorm. We found it so much more interesting than ours is! Sincerely, James, Sirius, Remus and Peter.” She looked up. “And they’ve all signed it individually, so they were all here.”

“Ye’re kiddin’,” gasped Mary, who had by now settled her cat, who was lying purring on her lap. “They were in here? Bu’ hoo?”

“I have no idea,” said Lily, shaking her head as she sat down on her own bed. “The stairs should have changed for them, they shouldn’t have been able to get up this far. Even if they climbed the slide, you can’t get past the second-year dorm unless you’re really good at climbing, and if nothing else I wouldn’t have thought Peter could have done it.”

“And the stairs are too wide to go up with a foot on each wall, even for someone as tall as Sirius, let alone Peter,” said Martha, who had joined Charlotte on her bed so she could have a look at the note. “Yep, the handwriting matches,” she went on, scrutinising the signatures. “They all wrote on it.”

Mary giggled, though it sounded a little hollow. “No wonder Circe was so upse’. Havin’ those lads in here woul’ be enough t’ try anyone’s patience.”

I sat on my bed in a mild state of shock. “You do realise what this means, though,” I said, trying to put my thoughts into words.

“What?” asked Charlotte.

“We have no secrets from them anymore. If they can get in here, then they can find out almost anything about us. We have no more privacy from them.”

Lily was sitting stock still as she took in what I said. “You’re right,” she said. “Goodness, what are we going to do?”

Mary looked around. “None o’ ye keep a diary, do ye?” I too looked at Charlotte, Lily and Martha, who were all shaking their heads. “Well, tha’s one goo’ thing a’ leas’. We can’ have had too many secrets let oot.”

Martha nodded. “Good thinking, Mary. From now on, no diaries, no compromising notes or letters, anything like that either has to be charmed so you can’t see what it really is, or destroyed.” She paused. “Any of you have anything really embarrassing like a picture of someone underneath your pillow?” Again, we all shook our heads. “Good. And might I suggest that now would not be a good time to start doing that.”

“Definitely not,” Charlotte said somewhat nervously.

“Hang on,” Mary said suddenly, a broad smile on her face. “James was in here? Lily, have ye checked t’ make sure ye’ve still go’ all yer underwear?”

Lily went a rather fetching shade of scarlet and hurriedly opened up her trunk and went through it. Eventually she resurfaced, still her cheeks still glowing. “I think it’s all in here,” she said. “Though I can’t guarantee he hasn’t looked at it. How can I ever look him in the eye again?”

“More to the point,” I said, “if that’s what he’s done, how can _he_ ever look _you_ in the eye again. You’ve got nothing to be ashamed of. That is, unless you’ve got some knickers that have ‘I love James’ embroidered on them.”

Lily, still crimson, hurled her pillow at me. “Very funny.”

Martha grinned. “Not denying it, I notice.”

“I shouldn’t have to.” Lily was steadfastly trying to hold on to as much dignity as she could. “Innocent until proven guilty, remember?”

“Right,” said Charlotte, who was looking more comfortable now and had a bit of a wicked smile on her face. “And we’ll remind you of that next time you accuse James of anything.”

****

Lily got a letter from home that evening, outside the usual post time which made us hold our collective breaths in case of bad news. She scanned it quickly, then smiled. “Mum’s going okay,” she said, then caught her breath. “Oh. Really?”

Martha grinned at her. “What?”

Lily looked at us with a sly grin. “Petunia’s got a boyfriend!”

I’d heard about Petunia, Lily’s older sister, who was apparently jealous of her for being magical and therefore tried to distance herself from Lily as much as possible. Lily had always been a bit touchy about this as they had been close as children and she missed her sister’s company.

“Petunia?” Martha’s voice couldn’t contain her surprise. She and Charlotte had met Petunia whereas Mary and I hadn’t, though we understood the older Evans girl wasn’t much like Lily at all and was in fact rather plain and bossy. “Really? Petunia, a boyfriend?”

“What’s the letter say about him?” asked Charlotte. She was always up for a love story, even if it _was_ Petunia’s.

Lily looked at the page in her hand. “His name’s Vernon, and she met him through work.”

“Vernon what?” Charlotte asked.

“Oh, sorry,” Lily said. She scanned the letter again. “Vernon – oh dear. Vernon Dursley.”

Martha laughed loudly. “Petunia Dursley. Now doesn’t that sound like a name everyone could aspire to.”

“Geez, that’s appalling,” Charlotte said. “You’d almost call off the relationship because of the name.”

I nodded. “You know, that’s another reason Bertram and I wouldn’t have worked. Laura Aubrey? It just sounds stupid.”

Mary giggled. “Aye, tha’ it does,” she said with a grin. “Hoo does Mary Ogden soond?”

“That’s all right,” said Martha, who was doing up her schoolbag. “What about Lily Potter?”

Lily threw a book at her. “Not funny, Miss Hornby.”

“It wasn’t supposed to be funny, I was being serious,” said Martha, grinning. “And _I_ thought it sounded fine. But you’ve hit on another reason I need to find myself a boyfriend. We need to get me a new surname.”

“Well, why don’t we find the name you like best and pick the boy to suit?” I suggested. “How about Martha Mulciber? If nothing else it’s alliterative.” I ducked as Martha threw Lily’s book at me.

“Martha Hopkirk’s okay,” suggested Charlotte, coming out of the bathroom. “Or Martha Carmichael.”

“Martha Toots?” Lily offered, referring to Tilden Toots of Hufflepuff.

Martha shuddered. “Toots is a nice enough bloke – when he’s clean, of course – but you’ve got to admit that’s a dreadful name. Like Dearborn, that’s another shocker.”

“Another reason fer ye t’ have dumped Hector, too, Charlotte,” said Mary, who was drying her hair with a hot air charm. “Bole’s a terrible name. Makes ye soond lik’ a bi’ o’ crockery.”

“Charlotte Lupin works,” Lily said quietly, looking at Charlotte, who went a rather fetching shade of crimson.

“Yeah, you know I could never go for Remus,” I said, handing Lily her book back. “Laura Lupin. Ugh.”

“Or Lily Lupin,” said Lily, putting the book back on the pile next to her bed. “That’s just as bad.”

“I thought you liked alliteration?” Martha asked, grinning and winking at me.

“Not when it’s me. Anyway, my cousin is about to become Gwendolyn Llewellyn,” I said. “That’s a pretty unfortunate combination.”

Martha made a face. “I can’t argue with that. Now I’ve got one. Elvira Black!”

Charlotte laughed. “In her dreams! But why not go for the lot of them? Greta Black!”

“Tha’ woul’ be a scream,” Mary said, grinning. “Tall, dark an’ han’some matched wi’ shor’, blonde an’ dumpy.” Harsh as it sounded, it was a fair description of Greta Catchlove, the top of whose head was maybe level with the bottom of Sirius’ ribcage. And that was in platform shoes.

Lily was continuing Charlotte’s theme. “How about Carol Black? Or Primrose Black?” She was obviously having fun trying to remember who else was in the fan club. For some reason these suggestions made me feel rather uncomfortable and I wasn’t quite sure why, but I giggled along with the other girls.

“Well then, changin’ tack sligh’ly, Alecto Gibbon?” suggested Mary, an evil grin on her face. “Tha’ woul’ be perfec’, she even looks lik’ one!”

Still feeling a little disquieted, I was smiling about the concept of Alecto becoming a Gibbon when unbidden, and unnerving me somewhat, a new name came into my head. Laura Black. And it sounded good.

****

I grabbed Mary after dinner and dragged her to an empty classroom. “I’ve got to talk to you,” I muttered. “Somewhere private.”

She obediently sat down on an old desk and looked at me. “What’s up?”

“I have done the most incredibly stupid thing any girl could possibly do,” I said, plonking myself down on a table facing her.

“An’ tha’ is?” she prompted, her eyes narrowing as she looked me over.

I got back up and went to the door, looking up and down the corridor to make sure no one was there, and then closed the door and walked randomly around the room for good measure. After all, I hadn’t forgotten James had an Invisibility Cloak, and I didn’t want to take a chance on _anyone_ overhearing what I was about to say. Finally, once I was satisfied we were quite alone, I put the words in order for the first time, even to myself. “I think I’ve got a crush on Sirius.”

It had been bugging me all day, compounded every time I saw him, and I needed someone to slap some sense into me. Someone who wouldn’t laugh at me but also wouldn’t plant false hope in my head.

Mary, to her credit, didn’t look horrified, or suppress a snigger, or look at me sympathetically, or do anything else I’d been worried she might do. What she did look was confused. “Ye think? Ye mean ye don’ know?”

“Hard to say,” I said, trying to explain myself. “It’s been coming on so gradually it’s taken me by surprise a bit. But I’m pretty sure it’s there. He makes me laugh, you know? And there’s times I get that tell-tale tingling you get when they touch you, that sort of thing.” I paused for a second, my cheeks burning. “And ‘Laura Black’ came to me this morning when we were going through names.”

“Hmmmm.” She frowned slightly at me. “Soonds lik’ ye’re keen on him, all right. Aye, it’s a dumb thing t’ do. I mean, ye’re in a better position than ye were say a year ago, he a’ leas’ talks t’ ye an’ all, bu’ I woul’ still say yer chances are no’ grea’. I’m sorry, Laura, but tha’s the way it is.”

“That’s the problem,” I said. “I mean, when I didn’t know him, I didn’t fancy him. You know, the arrogant berk thing. But since I’ve got to know him better he’s grown on me, and I can’t seem to shake it off.”

“Ye shoul’ prob’ly ge’ tha’ looked a’,” she said. “Large growths lik’ tha’ are generally no’ a good thing. Have ye seen Madam Pomfrey aboot it?”

“Very funny,” I groaned, though I was having trouble stopping myself from giggling. “Can we get back to my problem?”

“Right,” said Mary, a grin crossing her face. “Shall I aler’ Elvira tha’ the fan club’s aboot t’ ge’ a new member an’ all?”

My giggles stopped abruptly. “That’s the other problem. We know what he thinks of people like that. If he ever found out he’d probably never speak to me again.”

She nodded, now looking much more serious. “Aye, ye have a poin’ there, so I’ll keep this quiet. T’ recap, ye fancy him and ye’re thinkin’ it’s prob’ly a lost cause. I’m guessing it doesn’ help when he looks tha’ good, either,” she said dryly. “Though unlike James he doesn’ have his dream girl right in fron’ o’ us, so there may still be a chance fer ye.”

I just looked at her. Yeah, right, like he would ever look at me in that way. He could have anyone he wanted, he wouldn’t bother wasting his time with the likes of me. “Come on, Mary, be logical here. If I’m so awful Bertram had to cheat on me, what chance would I have with someone like Sirius?”

Mary rolled her eyes. “Stop bein’ daft,” she said. “Tha’ wasn’ yer fault. Ye were way too goo’ fer him. He jus’ couldn’ keep it in his pants so when ye said no he was dumb enough t’ look elsewhere.” She paused, ignoring the sceptical look on my face. “Right, so what do ye want me t’ do? Support ye through it jus’ in case, or try t’ ge’ ye o’er it?”

“I’m not sure,” I said. “I might get back to you on that one. Can we leave it for now that you won’t give me crap about it? It’s embarrassing enough without that to cap it all.”

“Ye drive a har’ bargain,” she grinned. “Bu’ okay. After all, ye didn’ tease me aboot my James thing, so it’s only fair.”

“Thanks,” I said. “And with any luck I’ll just snap out of it like you did with James. It shouldn’t take me too long to come to my senses, should it?”

 


	26. Hogsmeade under attack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laura’s trying to come to terms with her own stupidity (or what she sees as stupidity). Meanwhile, Hogsmeade is attacked and it’s up to a handful of sixth-year students to save the town and everyone in it. Luckily they know what they’re doing …

I wrote to my mother that night, feeling I really should let her know what had happened with Bertram now I was comfortable telling the story. I didn’t want to get into too much detail lest I say too much about Sirius, knowing Mum would be able to read between the lines, but I laid out the bare bones and explained we wouldn’t be seeing each other anymore.

Mum’s response surprised me. She had appeared to like Bertram a lot that day he visited during the holidays, so I wasn’t expecting her to be cheering. However, this is what she wrote:

> _Dear Laura_
> 
> _It was with great relief that I read your letter. I hope you’re not too upset by what happened, because I’m not sure Bertram was worth getting upset over. I didn’t want to say anything while you were seeing him, but there was something about that boy that made me uneasy._
> 
> _Please don’t get angry with me, I realise you may not be over him yet and therefore may still be sensitive to any negative comments. My main objection to Bertram was that he plainly didn’t make you happy. You were constantly on edge that day he came to visit, not at all your usual self, and you didn’t smile much or laugh at all. If my little girl is going to be falling for anyone, I would like them to be someone who makes her smile without her realising she’s doing it._
> 
> _Also I am falling back on many years’ experience in the police force when I say Bertram wasn’t entirely what he was making himself out to be. There was a shiftiness in his eyes that I didn’t like and he looked at you with greed rather than with affection. So your revelation he was seeing someone else behind your back quite honestly didn’t surprise me. I wish it wasn’t so, but it was._
> 
> _On the other hand, the boys who looked after you when you found out sound much more dependable. Maybe next time you should be looking closer to home for someone to bestow your affections upon?_
> 
> _Take heart and best of luck. You will get over him and you’ll be much better for it once it happens. And know that we love you and you can always count on us to help you to feel better._
> 
> _Lots of love,  
>  Mum._

Mary raised her eyebrows when I showed her the letter. “Yer ma’s really go’ ye figured, hasn’ she? The girl who go’ cheated on bu’ didn’ seem t’ min’ much because o’ who tol’ her aboot it.”

“I mind,” I said crossly. “It still hurts that he did that. I’m just trying to distract myself by thinking about something a bit more pleasant.”

She grinned. “What, Sirius? Aye, I dare say he is more pleasant t’ think aboot.”

“Sshhh,” I whispered, conscious we might possibly be overheard from our spot in the common room – and this was definitely something I didn’t want _anyone_ overhearing. To be on the safe side, I quickly cast _Muffliato_ at all the nearby groups of students.

“Yer ma’s right, though,” Mary said once I’d finished. “Aboot Bertram, tha’ is. He didn’ make ye smile. Ever since yer birthday party, ye were on edge a lo’. Ye’re more relaxed now.”

“That’s because he kept making inappropriate suggestions,” I said. “You’d think that after the tenth time I said no he would have got the hint. But still …” I trailed off, not really sure what I had been intending to say.

“Still what?” Mary wasn’t going to let me get away with it that easily.

“I do miss him. There’s something missing now.”

“Nothing a good snog can’ fix,” Mary said with a smile. “Now, we jus’ need t’ fin’ ye a willin’ collaborator …”

I looked quickly at Sirius in the armchair by the fire, blissfully ignorant of my predicament. Mary caught the action and groaned.

“No, tha’s no’ what I mean’. A willin’ collaborator who’s _no’_ him. Or James, fer tha’ matter, ’cause then I might kill ye afore Lily does, even.” I looked at her in surprise. “Aye, I might be over him,” she said, “bu’ only fer her. I’ll be right miffed if anyone else ge’s a han’ on him.”

“Okay, I’ll accept that,” I said: it did sound reasonable. “But what about Marcus?”

Mary shrugged. “I lik’ him a lo’,” she said, “bu’ I’ll always have a sof’ spo’ fer James, I think.”

“Right,” I said, changing the subject as her cheeks had gone a little pink. “But why can’t my collaborator be Sirius? That’d solve all my problems at once. And apparently he’s good at it, too, if we believe what Martha had to say on the matter.” I kept my voice down despite the _Muffliato_ , just in case the charm had missed anyone.

Mary grinned. “He can be yer collaborator, bu’ I’d sugges’ ye go fer someone a wee bi’ more realistic in the shor’ term. Remember, they have t’ be willin’.” My face fell. Of course, I’d forgotten that bit – she certainly had a point. In any case she started looking around the common room as though expecting to find someone appropriate just sitting there waiting to be asked.

“No you don’t,” I said as her gaze rested on the boys by the fireplace, who were talking rather furtively among themselves and kept looking at the clock. “Not Peter, I absolutely refuse.”

“Remus?”

“He’s not around, is he?” I asked, looking towards the fire again, where Remus was indeed conspicuous by his absence. “I’m sure I heard James saying something about his furry little problem cropping up again. Which reminds me, I’m not sure I’d want someone who’s always running around after a rabbit anyway. Not to mention the fact Charlotte would most probably have me drawn and quartered if I even tried it.”

“Okay,” she said reluctantly. “Right, ye can have Gerry Stebbins, that’ll ge’ him off my back fer a bi’ as well. Kill two birds wi’ one curse!”

“Must I? I thought we were looking for someone I wouldn’t mind snogging. And I’m sorry, but Gerry really doesn’t fit the bill.”

“Damn,” Mary said with a grin. “Worth a sho’, though.”

“Ah, you can’t ask Peter now anyway,” I said a little triumphantly as he, James and Sirius got up from their spot by the fire and headed rather furtively out the portrait hole. “So you’ve lost your opportunity.”

“Damn,” Mary said again. “Right, hoo aboot Avery? He’s a charming lad an’ all.” She ducked as I picked up a rather heavy Charms textbook and swung it at her head.

We were still going on the same track half an hour later when Martha came over with Lily and Charlotte in tow. “Right, Mary, you coming?” she asked. “Astronomy’s starting in ten minutes. Good night for it, too, the moon’s full so we should be able to see loads.”

“Oh, aye,” said Mary, quickly looking through her piles of books for the appropriate texts. “I’d fergotten, we were jus’ tryin’ t’ fin’ Laura a lad t’ snog t’ ge’ her mind off Bertram.”

“Where’s Peter?” Martha went on, looking at the sofa and armchairs by the fire where a handful of first-years had now settled in, making the most of the sixth-year boys’ sudden departure.

Mary shrugged. “They all wen’ off oot the portrai’ hole aboot half an hour ago. Maybe he’s skivin’ off again.”

“Must be,” said Martha, shaking her head. “That boy misses so many classes I’ll be surprised if he passes this year.”

Once Mary and Martha had taken off, Lily looked at me mischievously. “Right, Laura, what was it that you and Mary were up to before we came over?”

I blushed. “Uh – she was trying to find me someone to snog so I’d forget about Bertram.”

“That was it,” said Lily with a grin, her eyes flicking to Charlotte who was also smiling playfully. “I’m sure Charlotte and I can come up with someone for you. Now, who have you ruled out?”

****

Before long we were being reminded of the final Hogsmeade visit for the year, which was scheduled for late May. We were all looking forward to getting out of the castle and enjoying the spring weather, as well as stocking up on anything we might have been running low on and checking Honeydukes for new lines. However, as the wizarding world was becoming less safe, the rules and restrictions on those of us wanting to visit Hogsmeade were ever increasing, as Professor Dumbledore told us at supper about a week beforehand.

“I regret to advise of some further security measures,” he announced, “which are becoming necessary to ensure the safety of all students.” We all groaned as he gave an outline of what they entailed: we could only travel in groups of three or more; we weren’t to leave the village proper, meaning no trips to the Shrieking Shack or anything else outside the confines of the high street; we weren’t to talk to anyone we didn’t already know. Half a dozen teachers were to accompany the students on the walk to and from the village, and they would patrol the high street during the day to ensure nothing untoward happened.

Mary, who had planned to spend the day with Marcus, complained about the arrangements more than once. They meant couples would have to either double-date or take other friends along in order to spend time with each other, and I suspected a tidy few of them would enter places like Madam Puddifoot’s in groups of two pairs before separating to sit at individual tables.

The girls and I – minus Mary – had intended to go down as one group, and the boys from our year as another (Sirius having successfully evaded Elvira’s advances), but we all converged in the Entrance Hall at the same time before leaving and ended up as a group of eight. I had a suspicion the other girls were rather relieved at this, not because they necessarily wanted the proximity but because there was additional safety in numbers, and James and Sirius in particular exuded a sense of security that we all appreciated.

Just as we reached the gate I noticed Bertram and his Ravenclaw squeeze – the same one we’d caught him with behind the tapestry of Andros the Invincible the previous month – heading arm in arm in the direction of Madam Puddifoot’s along with a couple of other seventh-years. He must have decided to cut his losses and make the most of what options he had left, and at least he had stopped bothering me. Sirius, who was walking next to me, noticed me make the briefest of pauses and followed my gaze to Bertram’s retreating figure.

“You okay?” he asked as we fell into step again.

“Yeah. Yeah, I am,” I said, and I was. I realised I’d rather be just where I was than with Bertram and his pals, and the realisation gave me strength. And at least I wouldn’t be subjected to that atrocious tea-house again.

Sirius was giving Bertram a filthy look, and I noticed with some satisfaction that the older boy had suddenly sprouted a very cumbersome-looking set of antlers. I looked back at Sirius, who was putting his wand away with what appeared to be an attempt at subtlety. “You never liked him, did you?”

He looked uncomfortable and even a little guilty. “Ah, Laura, don’t ask me that.”

“Why not?” I asked, surprised. “I value your judgement.”

He seemed pleased but still wouldn’t answer my original question. “Look, you’re not over him yet, so you don’t actually want to know what any of us thought of him. If we liked him you’ll be second guessing your decision, and if we didn’t you’ll want to know why we didn’t say anything. It’s better not to ask, trust me.”

I looked at him shrewdly. There was a ‘but’ there, hanging, so I decided to provide it. “But?”

He appeared even more uncomfortable and I got the impression he was choosing his words carefully. “I think he’s a prick for doing what he did, and I think he should have appreciated what he had. But I also think you’re better off without him.” He paused, as though trying to decide whether or not to continue. “I think you deserve better.”

“Thanks,” I said, thinking it over. “You may be right.” I wanted to point out not everyone had their pick of the student body, some of us had to take who we could get, but that would have sounded petty. And besides, he was right, I did deserve someone who didn’t cheat on me. The tricky bit would be finding them.

He put his arm around me and gave me a bit of a squeeze, which once again was surprisingly comforting. “That’s the spirit,” he said. “Pick up and move on.” His arm was still around me and I had a sudden almost overwhelming urge to respond in kind, and I smiled to myself as I wondered, if I actually did it, just how many seconds it would take for him to realise what was happening and sprint off. As it turned out it wouldn’t have mattered, because James turned around from his conversation with Lily at that moment and saw us, and Sirius’ arm dropped abruptly to his side.

I looked again in the direction Bertram had disappeared in, thinking. “It’s just –”

Sirius gave me another sharp look. “Just what?”

“He was the first person who ever told me I was beautiful. Apart from family, of course.” This had only just occurred to me and I realised it was the reason I had been feeling bereft since Bertram and I had broken up. I didn’t miss _him_ , per se, but I missed the way he had made me feel about myself. I wanted to feel beautiful again. Why I had said it aloud, however, I had no idea, and I was wishing I hadn’t. Why couldn’t these epiphanies come when I was talking to Mary? It would have been a lot less embarrassing.

Sirius made a noise that sounded like he had been about to laugh but then thought better of it. “Is that what’s been bothering you?” he asked, pushing his hair out of his eyes as he looked down at me. “’Cause he won’t be the last person to say that. You _are_ beautiful.”

I smiled briefly at him. “Thanks,” I said, “but you don’t have to humour me.”

He looked like he was about to say something again but checked himself, choosing instead to grab my hand and squeeze it, and dropping it straight afterwards. I wasn’t sure if I felt comforted or not, part of me very aware he hadn’t denied that he _was_ humouring me. We walked the rest of the way to the village in silence.

The eight of us had been rather keen to enjoy the May sunshine but for some reason there was a really uncomfortable mood in the village when we got there, so to shake it off we trundled into the Three Broomsticks and ended up having an early lunch, accompanied by a few butterbeers and the occasional Firewhisky. Once we’d finished our feast, we left the pub and wandered out to a high street that was suspiciously deserted. The uncomfortable feeling was still there and immediately the boys formed a protective cordon around us, James and Sirius at the front, and with their wands out they surveyed the surrounding area, trying to locate the cause of this lack of activity. Baffled at what was happening, I stayed with the girls inside the protected circle, looking around frantically to try to work it out.

The streets were so hushed it was quite eerie, and even the amulet sellers appeared to have packed up and moved on. We couldn’t see any other Hogwarts students, nor any of the teachers who were supposed to be patrolling the immediate area. And then, without warning, Sirius tensed like a dog on a scent, and James followed his gaze to the top of the hill.

A mob of dark figures were coming down towards the village: there appeared to be at least a hundred of them. They too were eerily quiet, moving silently and purposefully down the gentle slope. They appeared to be weaponless, though it was a job to tell at that distance – they were still several hundred yards away. But the silence was becoming oppressive, and I felt a cold chill and inexplicable sense of dread come over me.

“Dementors,” muttered James. The other girls looked horrified, and Charlotte made a sudden move to go back into the Three Broomsticks.

James had noticed. “Yes, go,” he said, directing us back to the pub. “Go inside and close the door, and don’t let anyone out. Try to find a teacher in there,” he added, “any teacher will do.” Charlotte and Martha both dashed back across the road and into the safety of the pub and so, I saw, did Peter. Lily, I noticed, was staying and, not wanting to leave her alone, I decided to stay with her.

James looked around at Lily, who hadn’t moved and had a determined look in her eyes. “Lily, please,” he said softly, almost pleadingly. “We want you to be safe.” I looked at her, wondering if she realised it was probably the first time he’d called her by her first name.

If she did realise she hid it well, as there was no change on her face as she stood her ground. “I’m a prefect,” she said. “It’s my responsibility to make sure all the students are safe.”

“And they will be, if they’re in the pub,” Sirius said, his eyes and wand still trained on the approaching menace.

James nodded. “If you want to help, go in there and try to make sure they don’t panic. If they do, then this is going to be a whole lot harder to deal with.”

Lily shook her head. “We can’t be sure they’re all in there, though,” she said, watching the Dementors slowly progressing towards us. The cold chill in the air was escalating and I could feel all the happiness draining from me. “I think I should do a quick scan of the other shops and tell anyone inside them not to come out.”

James and Sirius looked at each other with exasperation, then focused again on the Dementors. “Let her,” I said. “I’ll go too. It’ll be quicker with more than one person, and once we’re done I’ll make sure she goes into the pub.”

“Not you, too, Laura.” Sirius took his eyes off the creatures briefly to look at me. “Can’t you just get to safety like we’ve asked? Please?”

Remus, who too had his wand trained on the approaching mob, spoke up. “How about I take the girls to check all the shops,” he said. “I’m a prefect too, it will look more official. Then you two can tackle this lot.”

“No, we need you here,” said James. “We need as many Patronuses as we can get, looking at the number of them.”

“Then I’m staying too,” said Lily, changing her mind. “I can cast a Patronus just as well as Remus can.”

James sighed, still not looking anywhere but directly in front of him. “All right, then. But make sure you stay behind us, okay? Out of harm’s way. Where _are_ those teachers?”

Remus grabbed Lily and me and dragged us to well behind James and Sirius, who were now in battle mode. We stood behind them, wands out, trying desperately to think of something happy enough to conjure a Patronus in front of so many Dementors.

It appeared James and Sirius knew each other well enough to be able to guess the other’s actions without being told. They waited until the army of Dementors were less than fifty yards away, and then suddenly their wands moved in unison as they bellowed “ _Expecto patronum!_ ” A silvery stag and a huge dog erupted from their wands, charging down the approaching army and scattering the first onslaught. Remus, Lily and I followed suit, and though our Patronuses weren’t nearly as strong as James’ and Sirius’ had been, we still managed to dispel a few of the Dementors.

James and Sirius had re-cast their Patronuses and the two large animals were once again careering towards the Dementors, driving even more away. There were less than a dozen of the creatures left by now and the air was feeling much less compressed, much more cheerful. Looking around, I could see at least two dozen faces pressed up against the windows of the Three Broomsticks, watching the proceedings.

Another round of Patronuses from Remus, Lily and I helped disperse the remaining creatures. Again, they were much weaker than the others, and I felt my strength draining, but it seemed like we’d broken the back of it and one more Patronus Charm could very likely finish them off. So I couldn’t understand just why James was still looking so worried.

“Get inside, will you?” he said almost weakly, looking around at Remus, Lily and me. “Just to be on the safe side.”

Just then, however, a teacher finally appeared on the scene, five minutes too late to really be of any use. It was Professor McGonagall and for once I was thrilled to see her, as she was most probably the most capable member of staff at the whole school. (Aside from Dumbledore, of course.) We called James’ attention to her as soon as we had spotted her.

“McGonagall, thank goodness,” he breathed, before belatedly realising Remus, Lily and I were still with them, that we hadn’t yet gone to the safety of any of the adjacent businesses. “GET INSIDE!!” he bellowed at us, “it’s not safe yet! There could be more!” He looked almost frightened and we quickly stepped inside the nearby doors of Honeydukes. Lily, however, kept the door ajar, evidently wanting to hear as well as see what was happening.

“What happened, Potter?” we heard McGonagall ask, looking around and taking in the surroundings.

“Dementors,” said James. “There were over a hundred of them. I think we got rid of them all, but we don’t know who sent them. Someone must have, and they’d have to be pretty powerful to control that many.”

McGonagall nodded, her expression tense. “And the students are all safe? No one was Kissed?”

“No one was Kissed that we know of. No one’s been attacked since they reached the village, we’ve made sure of that. Most of the kids are in the Three Broomsticks, Pete and Martha and Charlotte know not to let them leave, and we kept an eye on the other shops in case someone came out. Though they would have felt the effects inside, so I can’t imagine anyone coming out by choice.”

McGonagall looked impressed. “Black,” she said, “please keep an eye out in case any more of them show up. Assistance should arrive shortly.” Sirius nodded, his face resolute. “Potter,” she went on, “come with me. In the absence of any other members of staff, it will have to be you. We need to find who is responsible for this attack.”

Professor McGonagall waved her wand and sent a silvery wispy thing that looked from our distance to be a Patronus that hadn’t formed properly off in the direction of the school, and then she and James walked up the hill to where the Dementors had first been seen.

Lily closed the door of Honeydukes, her face pale. “Where have they gone?”

“Trying to find whoever’s responsible,” said Remus. “They could still be out there.”

“But he could be – he could be killed!” she said, her voice no louder, her green eyes wide and anxious.

“I’m pretty sure he can take care of himself,” Remus said. “McGonagall wouldn’t have taken him if she didn’t think so.” She looked unconvinced and started shaking uncontrollably.

“Oh, look,” I said, giving her a bear hug and trying to distract her. “Dumbledore’s arrived.”

And indeed he had – somehow he had found out what had happened and had hurried down from the castle. Almost immediately afterwards four wizards Apparated onto the high street, and Remus said he thought they were from the Ministry, probably Aurors. They took responsibility for the after effects of the attack and Sirius, after a lengthy conversation with Dumbledore, joined us at Honeydukes.

He was visibly relieved when he saw us. “You all okay?” he asked, looking searchingly at each of us in turn. We nodded, thankful it was all over. “All right, then, chocolate all round,” he said, pulling out his money bag. “We’ve all had a shock.” And he went straight to the counter and bought at least three dozen blocks of chocolate, some of which he started breaking apart and handing around to everyone in the shop.

“Thanks,” I mumbled with my mouth full. “But why so much?” I pointed at the pile of chocolates in his arms.

“You forget, Laura,” he said, “there are about a hundred kids in the Three Broomsticks who need it just as much as you do. Moony, would you mind? I’m beat.”

Remus nodded, a surprisingly indulgent look on his face as he took the chocolate from Sirius, who promptly collapsed onto the floor to my left. “You have a rest, Padfoot,” he said. “I’ll take these across to the pub.”

Suddenly exhausted, I too sat down, and must have looked even worse than I thought because Sirius looked at me with a very concerned expression on his face. “Don’t worry,” he said, putting an arm around my shoulders. “They’re all gone now. It’s over.” I nodded, still finishing my chocolate, as we watched Remus march across the street to where a number of dazed teenagers were slowly emerging from the safety of the Three Broomsticks.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always thought there had to be a reason James was appointed Head Boy when he wasn't a prefect, so this is what I came up with. I did worry about using Dementors given they've appeared before in this story, but none of the other creatures I could think of (Inferi, for example) worked for me. So, Dementors it is. Hope you think it worked! :)


	27. Deciding the Quidditch Cup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After surviving the dramas of Hogsmeade, the school is in high spirits as the last Quidditch game before exams approaches, as it will probably decide not only the Quidditch Cup but also the House Cup. But can Gryffindor get it over Slytherin when it really counts?

That night all of us who had been involved in holding off the Dementors, however minor our role might have been, called in turn to give the Headmaster our version of what had happened that day. We were told that James and Professor McGonagall never found the perpetrator, who must have Disapparated once his or her charges were dispersed, but James and Sirius’ quick thinking, and James’ leadership, had almost certainly saved more than one person. I didn’t think any of us (aside from James and Sirius) had realised the gravity of the situation at the time, as it had always felt under control, but it was certainly drummed into us that night how lucky we had been.

Madam Pomfrey, it transpired, was also rather pleased with Sirius, as his distribution of chocolate immediately after the event meant she had a much smaller number of traumatised students to deal with, and word was that she was pressuring both Dumbledore and McGonagall to let him off a couple of detentions he had yet to serve. He had refused reimbursement, though we understood this was down to pride more than anything else as since he’d left his family the previous year he’d had very little gold of his own.

On the whole it ended up a pretty good day for Gryffindor House. Peter, Martha and Charlotte were each awarded ten points for their efforts in keeping everyone in the Three Broomsticks calm and off the streets. Remus, Lily and I received twenty-five points each for our role in repelling the attack. Sirius received fifty points for his part in stopping the Dementors and for providing chocolate to the students afterwards, and James sixty for not only his wandwork but also the leadership he displayed, particularly in negating the panic that undoubtedly would have ensued if he wasn’t so composed.

“You know, Laura,” Lily said as we left Dumbledore’s office and made our way back to the common room, “I suspect all these points probably cancel out the last half dozen or so detentions and points lost that James and Sirius have cost us.”

I laughed. “You’re probably onto something there. I’m looking forward to seeing the hourglass tomorrow morning, it’ll have to have topped up a fair bit.”

“Yes, I suspect you’re right,” she said. “I think I’m just glad it’s all over, though. I feel pretty drained after going through it again for Dumbledore. What do you think the chances are the boys have raided the kitchen for us?”

“Middling to good,” I said, thinking about it. “And I hope they have, too. I’m starving.”

****

Our involvement in the affair naturally meant we were deluged with requests for information almost as soon as we made it back to the castle, and this only increased over the following days. As usually happens in these cases, the re-telling of events made them seem much more impressive than they really were.

I heard one person telling anyone who would listen that Voldemort himself had been behind the attack and was now bound to come after James and Sirius for personal revenge for preventing his taking over the village. Instead of being worried by this suggestion, upon hearing it the boys just grinned at each other and said, “Bring it on!” They never were ones to shrink from a challenge.

And that wasn’t the only variation on the story that was going around the school. “I heard Potter fought off a mob of Dementors AND some vampires,” I heard a boy who looked like he might be in fourth year saying at the Hufflepuff table during the week.

“Don’t forget the werewolves,” his friend said as they held a group of younger students spellbound. “There were at least half a dozen werewolves there as well.”

“Yeah, and he just held them off with a flick of his wand and then bound them with a ring of fire until the Aurors got there to deal with them,” the first one said. “They’re talking about giving him an Order of Merlin because of it!”

Mary and I giggled as we made our way down the table and sat opposite the person in question. How anyone could be naïve enough to credit this version was beyond me – even first-years knew vampires and werewolves didn’t come out in daylight. Though, I supposed, why let these minor details get in the way of a good yarn?

“I just heard you’re getting an Order of Merlin,” I said conversationally as we sat down. “Did you know about that?”

He laughed. “Nice one. Which version of the story is giving me that?”

“Dementors, vampires an’ werewolves,” Mary said from my other side, where she had found a spot next to Marcus. “An’ ye held them off wi’ a ring o’ fire till the Ministry go’ there.”

James looked at Sirius, in the spot next to him, and grinned. “Well, that is a new one,” he said. “Though if I’m not mistaken, the full moon isn’t due for another week or two, so I’m not quite sure what sort of werewolves they’re talking about.”

“Not to mention the fact the sun was out,” Sirius added, a note of exasperation in his voice.

“Honestly,” James said, shaking his head a little, “the way rumours spread at this school is ridiculous. Anyone would think I did the whole thing single-handedly. Let’s face it, there’s bugger all I could have done without you lot to help out.”

This was pretty typical of James’ attitude to the whole thing. While he generally enjoyed the attention the events of Hogsmeade had inevitably given him, he did pass off as much credit as he could to Sirius, and to a lesser extent to Remus, Lily and me, and by the end of the week he was almost getting uncomfortable with how far the story had been exaggerated as it was re-told around the school.

After the excitement of Hogsmeade it was almost a shame to get back to normality within the castle. However, exams were only a couple of weeks away and, while sixth year exams were only really practice for NEWTs, they were still important enough for us to be worried about them. Some of the teachers let us off a bit of homework as reward for saving the village, but the assignments still piled high and most of us were staying up past midnight as a matter of course trying to get more revision crammed in.

In addition, the last Quidditch match of the season was only a week away, where Gryffindor would be playing Slytherin. We had no idea how those students on the Quidditch team were managing to train for that, as well as studying for their exams, but even James (who never appeared to study at all) seemed a bit tired. The two seventh-years on the team, Anna Vector and Marcus Ogden, were looking decidedly stressed as their NEWTs approached and the Beaters, who were both in fifth year and therefore doing their OWLs, looked worse still. Only Clarrie Trimble, Charlotte’s little brother who was in fourth year, and Persephone Alderton, the third-year Seeker, seemed to be immune from the general panic.

“You know,” Charlotte said at breakfast, “after all those points you lot got for Hogsmeade, we’ve got a good chance of winning the House Cup as well as the Quidditch Cup. Have you seen how the hourglasses are looking?”

James frowned. “We need to win by more than ninety, though. Otherwise Slytherin get the Quidditch Cup, and we can’t have that.”

Sirius, next to him, shook his head, casting a dark look across the hall to the Slytherin table. “Definitely not. I’d never hear the end of it.” His brother Regulus was Slytherin Seeker so Sirius was eager for a Gryffindor win, knowing it would get back to his parents one way or another.

“And if we lose the match, not only do the snakes get the Quidditch Cup, but Ravenclaw will get the House Cup,” Peter said, having clearly worked out all the different possibilities.

“Better them than Hufflepuff,” I said darkly. If my House couldn’t win the Cup, then at least Bertram’s wouldn’t either.

The Quidditch game had the school in high spirits. Even those Houses not involved in the match were looking forward to a distraction from the upcoming exams, and there was also a desire from all other Houses that Slytherin not win the Cup. We Gryffindors who weren’t on the team made a point of forming protective cordons around those who were, as random Slytherins had taken to hexing them in the corridors in an attempt to sabotage our chances. On Wednesday, for example, Severus Snape took his opportunity in Potions to conjure up a swarm of wasps and send them to attack James when Professor Slughorn’s back was turned, though this of course may not have had anything to do with Quidditch.

“Look at that,” Lily whispered as the wasps crossed the dungeon, buzzing angrily as they went. “Why does he keep doing that sort of thing?” She shot a surprisingly dirty look in Snape’s direction.

“You really need to ask? They hate each other. The Quidditch match is probably just an excuse.”

Lily just nodded as we watched James, who appeared completely unconcerned, Vanish the wasps quickly before casting a Shield Charm between himself and Severus. He had barely even looked up from his Veritaserum to cast the spells before turning back to his cauldron, though I was sure I saw his eyes dart very quickly towards Lily in the process.

“You know,” Lily whispered with obvious admiration, either ignoring or not having noticed him watching her, “I would have thought James would have retaliated more than that. Maybe he’s growing up.”

_Or maybe he’s just growing on you_ , I thought, but I decided not to say that. Really, after the Hogsmeade incident, it was becoming clearer and clearer Lily was starting to take him much more seriously as a potential partner. She still thought he could be an arrogant berk, as indeed he was at times, but she had realised he was maturing and I was thinking that, the next time he asked her out, she’d probably say yes. After all, he had saved her life, among others.

However, she needed to work all this out for herself, so rather than saying anything I glanced at Professor Slughorn, who had been helping Dione Turpin with her potion and didn’t even appear to be aware anything had happened. Then again, both James and Snape were members of the Slug Club, so it was always possible he had decided to ignore the hex so he wouldn’t have to punish either of them.

As for James not retaliating, however, I did notice Severus appeared to be suffering from a Twitchy Ears Hex as we left the dungeon after class. And I decided not to point that out to Lily.

There was another unfortunate incident outside the Charms classroom the following day when Persephone Alderton was hit with an Insect Jinx and scuttled around the floor for a full quarter of an hour before Professor Flitwick could hit her with the appropriate anti-jinx. Wilkes from Slytherin was suspected, as he had been passing at the time, but because the spell had been non-verbal no one could say for sure.

In any case, by forming our defensive barriers and casting the occasional Shield Charm around the team members, we managed to get to Saturday morning without any further incidents, and the seven Gryffindors who walked out onto the Quidditch pitch for the start of the game were all definitely in the same number of pieces and the same condition as they had started the week.

The eight remaining sixth-years clambered into one of the stands took two sets of four seats, one behind the other. I had tried to follow Sirius unobtrusively in an attempt to keep close so I would have an excuse to sit next to him when we found our places, but then noticed with a start that Charlotte was doing the same with Remus. I hoped fervently I wasn’t as blatant as she was: in my mind’s eye I imagined Lily’s sympathetic looks and Martha trying not to laugh. In any case, it was too late to do anything about the seating arrangements without being obvious, so I decided to follow the original plan and just enjoy the match.

Not long after we sat down, though (me in between Mary and Sirius in the front row), Sirius leaned in very close to my ear. “Uh, Laura, do you mind if we swap places?”

I looked at him, surprised. That would put me on the edge of the group and him next to Mary, who had Lily on her other side. “Why?”

He just jerked his head towards his other side, and I saw the space there had been filled by the two Hufflepuff girls who had been in our detention way back before Christmas, both of them squeezing into a spot better suited for one so they could be next to Sirius Black. I’d wondered why we all had to budge down a little. “Oh,” I said. “Yeah, sure.”

We stood up and awkwardly swapped seats, me very aware of just how close we were. Not that there was a lot of room to manoeuvre, but it was a little hard to keep my concentration, let alone my balance, when I was pressed up against him like that. And, to my horror, it seemed like he realised just how much it was affecting me, as he put a hand on my back to steady me. Fortunately we managed to change places before I tumbled headfirst down the grandstand, though I’m sure I was starting to resemble a Quaffle as I finally sat down. It was with a sinking heart that I was discovering the potential for him turning me into a quivering wreck was increasing by the day, and I was starting to get a very nasty suspicion that snapping out of it wouldn’t be nearly as simple for me as it had seemed to be for Mary with James.

“Thanks for that,” he muttered, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees so his shoulders wouldn’t be so cramped in the narrow space, and to my great relief ignoring my discomfort. “She was rubbing up against my leg. It was a bit uncomfortable.”

“Right,” I said. “Though, to be fair, there’s not much room. Maybe she wasn’t doing it deliberately.” After all, my leg was in contact with his, and it certainly wasn’t deliberate on my part. Rather pleasant, yes, and I certainly wasn’t complaining, but not deliberate.

“Well, yes, that’s certainly possible,” he said, “but if I have to have someone’s leg up against mine, I’d rather it …” He trailed off, a rather uncomfortable expression on his face.

“If it was someone you actually don’t mind being around,” I finished for him. “Yeah, I can understand that.”

He just nodded, looking somewhat relieved. I hadn’t realised just how much the fan club got to him sometimes, though it had to be a bit wearing. Especially when he gave them no encouragement whatsoever. In any case he was saved from saying anything more about it, as Madam Hooch blew the whistle to start the game.

As always it was fast and furious, with blurs of red and green chasing each other through the air. James, on his new Nimbus Fifteen Hundred, was particularly quick and it was almost impossible to see his arm action as he hurled the Quaffle past the Slytherin Keeper and through the hoops. Clarrie, small and light, dodged Bludgers with ease as he passed off to Anna Vector, who tapped it straight back to him as he flew past. Almost a blur, he caught it and tossed it through the left hoop all in one movement. With the following action having similar results, after just five minutes Slytherin were on the ropes with a deficit of seventy points to ten. An impressive Woollongong Shimmy from James less than ten seconds later meant it moved up eighty to ten, and an Anna Vector feint shortly afterwards pushed it up another ten points.

Mary and Lily had formed an unofficial girlfriends’ club, with Mary watching Marcus’ every move on the pitch and Lily James’. It was irrelevant that Lily and James weren’t actually going out, as we could all see that it was coming – the only question was whether it would happen before the summer holidays or after them. She and Mary were holding each other’s arms tightly as they watched their respective love interests dodge, defend, bash, throw and score.

It was half an hour later and with the scores at two hundred and fifty to one hundred and thirty when we first noticed the glimmer of gold that was the Snitch. Unfortunately, Regulus Black appeared to have spotted it before Persephone did, as he hurtled towards a spot just above the left goal hoop for Slytherin. On the best racing broom money could buy, he looked sure to get it first. Fortunately for Gryffindor, our Beater Fin Quigley found an obliging Bludger at just the right moment, and thumped it hard at the spot Regulus’ hand was about to be. Contact was made, and Regulus faltered just long enough to have the Snitch fly away again out of sight. Had he caught it, with the hundred and fifty points it brought, Slytherin would have won both the game and the Cup.

Of course, being a Black, Regulus wasn’t about to let a broken hand stop him from winning the Quidditch Cup for his team, as well as taking the House Cup from his renegade brother. He glared at Fin and repositioned himself on the broom so he would be able to steer with his knees the next time the Snitch showed itself, which would enable him to use his non-preferred but intact left hand to catch it. Sirius groaned.

“Too proud for his own good,” he muttered, just loud enough for me to hear over the commentary. “He should just cut his losses and get that hand fixed.”

“They’d have to forfeit,” I pointed out. “They don’t have a reserve Seeker. And what Slytherin would abandon the opportunity to take Gryffindor off the top of the pile?”

He paused for a while as though considering what I’d said. “Particularly him. He’d lose an opportunity to gloat at me.”

I stole a glance at him. I was having trouble understanding exactly what the two brothers’ relationship was. Sometimes they appeared to be at constant loggerheads, exchanging vitriolic attacks and leaving no stone unturned in their efforts to outdo the other, and other times I noticed a fondness and respect there and a reluctance to hurt or offend each other. It seemed to be a constant contradiction and I wasn’t quite sure which extreme it was at now.

Another hush fell over the crowd and we turned our attention back to the game. This time it was Persephone who had spotted the Snitch. Regulus, just behind her and on a much faster broom, was struggling to control it properly with only one good hand and while normally he would have been able to easily sweep past her and gather up the small golden ball, this time he just wasn’t able to get in the right spot. Persephone, still in front, was probably unaware of what was happening behind her, and grabbed the Snitch easily as it hovered about two hundred feet above the ground not far from the grandstand we were sitting in.

The stands erupted as cheers and whistles came from all corners except, of course, the Slytherin contingent behind their goals – Gryffindor had won four hundred and sixty points to one hundred and eighty, thereby securing both the Quidditch and House Cups, unless for some reason someone lost over a hundred points between now and the end of exams. (And James and Sirius, out of all Gryffindors the most likely to do something that had the potential for losing that many points, were being held in such high regard by the senior members of staff at that point it looked very improbable.) The girlfriends’ club was ecstatic – Marcus had let in just eighteen goals, and James had scored eleven – and everyone stood up and started hugging each other in excitement. When it came to hugging Sirius, though, I noticed an awkwardness in the action, though whether it came from me or from him I couldn’t have said. In any case, we seemed to hold on to each other for a little longer than necessary, trying to shake off the discomfort I was sure we both felt.

****

The party in the Gryffindor common room that night was more raucous and high-spirited than any I could remember. Remus and James disappeared for a spell and reappeared with cases of butterbeer, and Sirius and Peter similarly showed up with trays of food from the kitchens. I admit to feeling a little smug that I knew exactly how they got all of these, having been to the kitchens with Sirius and also seen that amazing map they had written. It seemed the whole House had decided to join in and Anna Vector was doing laps of the common room, carrying the Quidditch Cup around over her head, the butterbeer it had been filled with sloshing over the edges and dripping onto her robes.

“Three cheers for Gryffindor!” someone yelled from somewhere near the window, and the resultant sound should have been nearly enough to lift the roof off the common room, as Anna, James, Marcus, Clarrie and the rest of the team found themselves forced into the middle of the room amid tumultuous applause and almost force-fed butterbeer and anything else that people may have managed to smuggle in.

The party went well into the night, and as expected people started pairing off after a while. Mary and Marcus found the closest proximity to a secluded corner they could and spent several hours ‘getting to know’ each other better, and Martha did likewise with Duncan Abercrombie from seventh year, who had been sitting next to her in the grandstand during the game. I understood Peter had been on her other side so she had welcomed the distraction Duncan had provided. I had been half expecting Lily and James to pair up that night as well, but she obviously wasn’t quite ready for that yet, though she spent a tidy spell early on watching him through her hair, thinking no one realised what she was doing.

I spent much of the night with Charlotte who, though still denying she fancied Remus, spent a lot of time talking about him, how he looked, whether he was well, and how he was behaving towards her. Unfortunately, however, that wasn’t the only thing she noticed.

“What’s up with Sirius?” she asked about halfway through the night. “It’s almost like he’s avoiding us. Have you upset him or something?”

I kept my face as impassive as possible. The trouble was she was right, he did seem to be avoiding us. Whenever we moved in his direction he hurriedly took off somewhere else so our paths wouldn’t cross, and even when he’d been at the bar he would disappear as we approached rather than get our drinks. I didn’t have a clue what I’d done – if it was to do with me in the first place – and it was rather unsettling.

“I have no idea,” I said quite honestly. “Maybe it’s got nothing to do with us at all, it just seems that way.”

She looked at him shrewdly, even taking off her glasses and cleaning them before putting them back on and watching him again, and shook her head. “No, I think it’s to do with us. And I’ve barely had anything to do with him lately, so it’d have to be you. Are you sure you haven’t said anything to offend him?”

I wracked my brain trying to think of anything it could be, going over every conversation we’d had in the previous few days, but nothing stood out. The only thing I could think of that might possibly be right was he had guessed how I felt about him and was trying to put me off gently – but there was no way known I was going to say that out loud. Admissions like that were strictly reserved for Mary’s ears only.

Meanwhile Lily and James started getting cosy by the fire, still not touching each other but actually having a conversation that went for longer than five minutes and didn’t involve any wands being drawn, which we thought might have been a record as far as they were concerned. It looked like James was determined not to mess it up this time, and was letting things run their course without trying any bad pickup lines or asking her out at inopportune moments, and Lily appeared prepared to go with the flow.

By the time the party wound up at about three in the morning, half the people there had found a special someone to share the evening with and were snogging in various corners of the common room. Charlotte and I, however, were both just as single as we had been when the night started, and Lily and James were still sitting by the fire, talking. Sirius had disappeared up the boys’ staircase not long after midnight and hadn’t reappeared, and Remus and Peter were sitting on the floor with a couple of fourth-years, chatting away amiably without paying the slightest attention to what was going on around them while Mary’s cat played with a pile of butterbeer corks in the middle of their circle. Charlotte and I looked at each other and, agreeing it was time for bed, picked our way over the squashed-in food and smashed bottles that littered the floor to the girls’ staircase, pitying the house elves who would have to clean up the chaos before the sun rose.

 


	28. Exams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone takes their sixth-year end of year exams – with the occasional distraction.

Once the Quidditch Cup was settled, we really had nothing to take our minds off the upcoming exams. Every spare minute was spent with our noses in various textbooks or re-reading our notes and essays from the year, as we all frantically tried to work out what we were most likely going to be tested on. It was a frantic time and there never seemed to be enough hours in the day to get everything done. In fact, Martha’s idea the previous year of breaking into the Ministry to steal a few Time-Turners had never sounded so appealing.

Like all girls with what was – to my horror – developing into an increasingly ridiculous obsession, I welcomed this time as it meant I barely had a spare moment to think about Sirius. That is, I saw him, of course, it would be impossible not to when we had almost all the same classes and shared the common room as a homework and revision space, but if I wanted to pass sixth year then I really couldn’t waste time watching him over my Potions textbook or pretending to stare absently at the fire (okay, read that as staring at someone who was usually in close vicinity to the fire) when I was trying to remember a spell. It worked as an occasional distraction – especially since he’d stopped avoiding me, with me none the wiser as to what that had been about in the first place – but getting my revision done was important enough to give me quite enough to be getting on with.

Finally the exams themselves began. First up was Ancient Runes, which was made more difficult when I made a right hash of my first attempt at Runes translation. Fortunately I realised my error and was able to undo most of the damage, though it did leave me feeling more than a little flustered and it meant I didn’t do as well for the rest of the exam as I might have hoped. I was pretty sure I hadn’t botched it badly enough to make me repeat sixth-year Runes, but it was still not the result I was looking for. Why did _Fehu_ and _Ansuz_ have to look so similar anyway?

“Don’t worry about it,” Remus said as we left the large classroom being utilised for sixth year exams after it had finished. “If that’s the worst thing you’ve done today, you’ll get through fine.”

“But it changed the whole meaning of the text,” I said. “I had it talking about money instead of communication. I pretty much had to re-write my whole analysis.”

“Well, it was only one essay out of four,” Remus said. “It could have been worse. You could have confused _Eihwaz_ and _Inguz_ , those are opposites so you would have been in all sorts of trouble.”

“Thank goodness we don’t have anything this afternoon,” I muttered, more worked up about it all than I wanted to admit. “I think I need a stiff drink before I get on with anything else.”

Remus grinned. “If you’re sure about that, I’m sure the gang can come up with something for you. What would you prefer, Firewhisky, redcurrant rum or elderflower wine? Or I’m sure Padfoot could lay his hands on some mead, if you’d rather that.”

I cracked a smile for the first time since leaving the exam, and it wasn’t just from hearing Sirius’ nickname. “Hmm … well I did say a stiff drink, didn’t I? So that’d be Firewhisky or rum. You know, I might just take you up on that.”

I was only half joking. A stiff drink would also serve to make me more relaxed around Sirius, who I was bound to see sometime during the afternoon considering we both had it off and it was becoming more and more common for the sixth-year Gryffindors to converge in the same place on these occasions. And Remus made sure of it at the lunch table, when he cocked an eyebrow at James, Sirius and Peter when they arrived and seated themselves opposite us.

“How did the exam go?” Sirius asked carelessly as he found a plate and piled it high with roast chicken and vegetables.

I just rolled my eyes and let Remus respond, which in hindsight was probably a mistake. “Not too bad, but Laura had a bit of a shocker.”

“Mistranslation,” I explained. “Two runes that look similar but mean completely different things. I had to re-write my whole essay.”

“Not fun in an exam,” Peter said. I looked at him and smiled – for someone who had been pretty much terrified of girls for the past six years, he was getting more and more self-confident. He might even find himself a girlfriend before seventh year was out.

“She got a bit worked up about it,” Remus said, ignoring the fact I was getting increasingly embarrassed, probably due more to who was sitting directly opposite me than anything else. “Said something about needing a stiff drink before she gets on with anything this afternoon.” And I could have sworn I saw him wink across the table as he said it.

“Really?” said James, looking at me in surprise. “You? Well, not what I was expecting, but –”

Sirius cut him off. “No, she can be a bit of a wild one, Laura can. I caught her months ago sneaking into the common room at two in the morning after a night on the piss.”

I threw him a look – he may have been gorgeous but I wasn’t about to let him get away with that. “That’s rather an exaggeration, don’t you think? I had a few glasses because it was my birthday, that’s all.”

“And could barely walk up the stairs afterwards,” Sirius said, a broad smile on his face. “I heard someone had to break into Sluggy’s stores the next morning and steal some Sobering Solution so you could make it to class.”

That shut me up: I had no intention of getting Lily into trouble. Besides, I suspected James would probably find that story a bit of a turn-on (I’d noticed that Lily breaking the rules usually got him a little – er – enthusiastic), and I figured he already fancied her enough without me adding any ammunition to his fantasies.

“So, do you still need that drink?” James asked, also ignoring my increasing discomfort. “We’ve got a few things stashed away if you want something. Whisky, rum, wine …”

I shook my head. “No, I’ve calmed down now. Besides, I don’t think alcohol would be a good idea when I’m supposed to be revising for Transfiguration. That human Transfiguration stuff is difficult enough when I’ve got full control of my facilities.”

James looked at me doubtfully. “Sounds to me like you’re making excuses. You know we’d be happy to help you out if you need a hand, too.” He turned towards Sirius. “You don’t have anything on this afternoon, do you, Padfoot?”

I froze momentarily. An afternoon alone with Sirius while he tutored me in Transfiguration? While I couldn’t deny I would most probably enjoy it immensely, there was always the very real possibility of letting on how I felt about him and that was the last thing I wanted. And I’d be likely to be so distracted that I wouldn’t learn anything anyway. Especially with the way he looked that day, which had to be more striking than usual? Or maybe I was just noticing it more. As a result, even while Sirius was confirming James’ offer of help, I was coming up with excuses as to why it wouldn’t be necessary.

“No, thanks anyway, but I’ll be fine,” I said, hopefully sounding more sure of myself than I felt.

Sirius looked surprised and even a little disappointed, as though he had been looking forward to showing off how much he knew to a lesser mortal such as me. “I thought you were having trouble?”

“I’m fine,” I repeated. “Right as rain. Really.”

“If you’re sure,” James said doubtfully, looking at me in a way I rather didn’t like. “Well, drink, then?”

It was almost like he was making up reasons for me to spend the afternoon with them, and I wasn’t sure that would be a good idea. And I definitely didn’t know why Remus seemed to be finding the whole thing so amusing, but he definitely was – I could feel the bench we shared shaking a little as he tried not to laugh. In any case, I shook my head once more. “I just remembered, I have to meet Mary this afternoon. But thanks anyway.”

“If you’re sure,” James said again, his eyebrows hovering somewhere near his hairline. “Though I don’t know why you’re making excuses, it’s not like we’re going to force it down your throat if you don’t want any. Forced consumption of anything isn’t something Dumbledore takes lightly.”

“And we’ve got a fairly good idea of what he takes lightly and what he doesn’t,” Sirius added, though it occurred to me it mustn’t have clicked with him yet that spiking people’s drinks at parties probably fell into that category. “If not, we probably wouldn’t have made it to the end of sixth year.”

“What do you mean, Padfoot?” Peter asked, confusion all over his face as he gnawed at a chicken wing.

Sirius grinned conspiratorially at me and rolled his eyes. Great, that helped my mental state enormously. What was I saying about him turning me into a quivering wreck? Fortunately I was saved from actually speaking by Remus, who took it upon himself to (once again) break off a potential argument.

“He meant we haven’t been kicked out yet,” he said gently, throwing a warning look at Sirius in the process. “We know where to draw the line.”

“But you went right over that line last year,” Peter said, his eyes on Sirius. “Even Dumbledore said he couldn’t believe you would risk Moo-”

“So, Laura, you definitely don’t want that drink?” James asked loudly, cutting Peter off and giving him a surprisingly dirty look as he did so. “It might settle you down a bit for that revision if you’re still worked up about this morning.”

I had no idea what Peter had said that had made James feel the need to shut him up like that, but I couldn’t deny the vibe at the table had become considerably more uncomfortable since he’d said it. In an attempt to lighten things up again, I decided to agree with James.

“Yeah, why not,” I said. “Just let me finish my lunch first so it’s not on an empty stomach.”

James looked relieved. The mood hadn’t lightened enough for me to dare glance at any of the others just yet, but it was clear the change of subject was welcomed by everyone. Except perhaps Peter, who had brought up whatever it was in the first place and in all likelihood, like me, wasn’t entirely sure why what he’d said had been so controversial.

****

Despite turning down Sirius’ offer of instruction in Transfiguration, I made it through the exam with less difficulty as I had imagined, even the theory component which was so full of complicated rules and principles that I was sure even the boys would have had trouble getting their heads around it all.

That night I found a deck of Self-Shuffling Playing Cards and found a secluded spot in the common room to play a few rounds of Muggle Patience. Lily was out on patrol with Remus, Martha was in a broom cupboard somewhere with Duncan, Charlotte was reading her Divination textbook, and Mary was at our favourite table by the window, up to her ears in Herbology texts. I’d finished revising and found the solitary game helped clear my head, especially when it was too late for me to take a quick ride around the Quidditch pitch.

“Stuck again,” I muttered, packing up the cards into one pile where they dutifully re-shuffled themselves.

Suddenly a shadow cast over me, and I looked up to see James hovering by my table.

“Laura, have you seen – oh, what’s that you’re doing?” he asked, clearly distracted by the cards set out in front of me.

“Muggle Patience,” I said. “I use it to calm down sometimes.”

“Ooh, would Lily know that game?” I had to smile at his enthusiasm. James even took NEWT-level Muggle Studies in an effort to learn more about the world Lily had come from.

“I’d say so, most Muggles know it. Whether they bother with it or not is another matter.”

“So how do you play it?”

I sighed, missing my quiet time. “How about I show you another time. Anyway, that’s not why you came over here, is it?”

His face dropped. “Oh yeah. Have you seen Padfoot?”

Just who I wanted to talk about. Sirius. It would be a test to discuss him with James of all people without making a fool of myself, so I just said the first thing that came into my head, which ended up being rather flippant. “Have you looked down the back of the sofa? I often find lost things down there. You know, odd socks, stray Sickles, missing best friends …”

James laughed. “And that of course is why.” I looked at him quizzically – what on earth did that mean? He ignored my confusion and clearly decided to play along. “Yeah, I did try there, but there wasn’t much room once we pulled Wormtail out from underneath a cushion.”

“Well, I haven’t seen him for a while,” I said, just wanting to get back to my Patience. After all, I played it to settle my nerves and talking about Sirius was rather counterproductive there. I also thought I might get this game out, it had started well, but I decided I really should be polite. “Should I have?”

“I don’t know where he’s gone,” he said, not answering my question. “And he’s got the map. Normally he’s easy to find, you just look for –” He stopped, checking himself, but I could finish that sentence myself – ‘the crowd of girls’ – and I wasn’t really in the mood to play along with boosting their egos. Particularly when it concerned Sirius and the extent of my competition, which I really didn’t like thinking about.

“Look, James,” I said with a touch of exasperation, “just because I’m female doesn’t mean I automatically know where Sirius is. Not every girl is so hung up on him they keep tabs on his whereabouts.” While technically true it wasn’t the case with me, of course, but I’d never tell James that. I had seen a breathless fourth-year passing a note to Sirius earlier in the night, and he’d read it and disappeared out the portrait hole without a word to anyone.

James’ face was a combination of confusion and surprise. “But that wasn’t what I meant,” he said. “I just thought … oh, forget it.” He turned and traipsed back to the armchairs by the fire where the other boys were perched.

His question was answered a minute or two later, however, when the portrait hole opened and Sirius climbed in, his face blank with that closed look he got when something was bothering him.

“Padfoot!” came the cry from the fireside. “Where have you been, mate?”

I watched with interest over my cards as Sirius joined the throng by the fire. “Went to see McGonagall,” he said, looking absently around the room. He caught my eye and I looked back at my cards, embarrassed to have been sprung listening in on their conversation.

“Not _another_ detention?” came Peter’s voice, easy to recognise as it was somewhat higher and squeakier than those of the other three.

“No, no, nothing like that,” Sirius said. I wondered why his friends were pushing it when he so obviously didn’t want to discuss whatever it was. “I think I’ll go to bed,” he said finally, ignoring the silence around him.

Through my hair I saw him glance my way again as he made his way through the common room to the boys’ stairs, and I shuddered involuntarily. There were all sorts of things he could have read into my little display of eavesdropping, not all of them incorrect, and I hoped sincerely I hadn’t just killed off what fledgling friendship we might have had.

****

We had our practical exam in the morning, with the theory to follow that afternoon. I thought I got through the practical part pretty well, having (among other things) successfully identified an Alihotsy and pruned a Devil’s Snare without being strangled. Feeling confident, I was guided with Greta Catchlove out of the exam room and into a small classroom nearby where we were to wait until everyone had finished, where inside waited several other students who had also completed the morning’s tasks.

Most of them were sitting around in groups testing each other for that afternoon’s theory exam, and I heard Hector Bole reciting the list of flesh-eating trees to himself. Sitting in the corner looking bored – but handsome – was Sirius. I realised it would look suspicious if I ignored him so, taking a deep breath to get my nerve up, I went to join him.

“How’d you go?” I asked as I sat down next to him, leaning back against the wall so I didn’t have to look directly at him. After all, there was less chance I would embarrass myself that way.

“Brilliant, of course,” he said, raking his fingers through his hair. “How about you?”

“Definitely a pass. Probably an E, hopefully an O, though it depends on this afternoon, obviously.” I paused for a minute, wondering if I should say anything about the previous evening.

“Look, about last night in the common room,” I said finally. “I didn’t mean to listen in or anything. James was just being pretty loud.”

He looked surprised, plainly racking his brain to work out what I was on about. “Don’t worry about it,” he said after a moment. “Everyone hears everything in the common room, I didn’t think you were eavesdropping or anything.” I sighed inwardly, immensely relieved. “I’d just had a bit of bad news, that’s all.”

I let that sit for a spell as Gertie Cresswell and Caradoc Dearborn came into the room, their exams obviously over as well. “Well, if you want to talk about it, I’m here,” I said. “If you don’t, that’s fine too.” I noticed his eyes had narrowed so I wasn’t expecting him to talk, but since we were supposed to be friends I felt honour-bound to offer him the option.

He hesitated, looking at me out of the corner of his eye and apparently pondering the idea. “My uncle died,” he said eventually. “One of the only people in my family I actually liked. And no one bothered to tell me.”

Normally I would have asked whether it was connected with the Death Eaters but with the Blacks I suspected that was unlikely. In any case it wasn’t pleasant news. I looked at him sympathetically and had a strong urge to grab his hand and squeeze it. “That’s awful,” I said, successfully mastering the impulse. “Was it sudden?”

He laughed bitterly. “I wouldn’t know. I haven’t seen him since I left two Christmases ago.” He paused again. “They told Reg, he went to the funeral and everything, and they didn’t tell me. And Reg didn’t tell me either, the git.”

“You’re joking.” I knew Sirius had a mixed relationship with his brother, but not telling him about a death in the family seemed a little low even for Regulus.

“Following orders, I don’t doubt,” Sirius spat. “Anyway, I only found out because apparently he left me some gold. That would have gone down well, aiding the prodigal son. Good thing he’s already dead or they would have disowned him, too.”

“So that’s why you had to see McGonagall?” I guessed. “To sort out what’s in his will?”

“Yep, that’s right,” he said, suddenly more business-like. “That’s the only good thing to come out of it. I can afford to get a place of my own now.” He smiled wryly.

“I thought you were living with James,” I said. “That not working out?”

“Well, that’s not really the point. Prodigal son or not, whoever heard of a Black living off charity? That is, I appreciate it and everything, but I’m not exactly comfortable with it.”

“Ah, the Black family pride,” I said airily, trying to cover my surprise he was even discussing this sort of thing with me in the first place. “I thought I’d heard a rumour about that at some point.”

He looked at me and smiled suddenly, his good humour seemingly restored. “Something like that.” He paused for a moment, watching me. “Thanks, Laura,” he said finally, smiling again. “I do feel better.”

****

The next day was a day off for pretty much all of sixth year – for some reason the History of Magic exam was scheduled for the afternoon and nothing at all in the morning. As practically no one was still taking History of Magic, we all saw it as a time to prep ourselves for the Defence exams the following day. At least, most of us did, though we did decide to make the most of the June sunshine by doing our revision outside on the banks of the black lake.

Even though it was a weekday, the fact we had no exams at all meant we felt no compulsion to wear our school robes, and instead the girls and I wandered down to the lawn in jeans and t-shirts, which as always were far more comfortable. It was a decidedly agreeable way to spend the afternoon, lying on my stomach underneath the beech tree, a quill tucked behind my ear and my Defence textbook open in front of me as the girls and I tested each other on curses and counter-curses and practiced our Patronuses.

The boys weren’t far away, dressed pretty much as we were and throwing a Quaffle they had obviously procured from the school supplies somehow to each other, James regularly looking furtively over his shoulder to see if Lily had seen his latest pass or catch. He was obviously the best of the four which was hardly surprising considering his years on the House Quidditch team, but Sirius and Remus were also holding their own rather nicely, Remus in particular impressing me with a couple of spectacular takes I wouldn’t have thought him capable of. Only Peter, as usual sorely lacking in talents the others had in spades, regularly dropped catches or missed the Quaffle entirely, and his throws generally went rather wide of the person he was aiming at.

We were well into the afternoon when Charlotte suddenly stopped mid-sentence while reciting the difference between a curse and a hex, and we all followed her gaze to the boys’ game. “Look at that, would you,” she muttered underneath her breath.

We didn’t need telling twice. The sun had come out and, obviously feeling the heat, the boys started taking their shirts off, so all thoughts of Defence revision disappeared abruptly as we enjoyed the spectacle. Though soon enough Mary had torn her eyes from James, Sirius and Remus (particularly James, I suspected) and was struggling to suppress a giggle.

“Poor lad,” she said, her eyes on Peter. “Hoo can he hope t’ live up t’ the others? Do ye think he’d be too offended if we asked him nicely t’ put the shirt back on?”

She was right: Peter looked much better covered up. The other three, however, were another matter entirely – even Remus – and I was sure they were enjoying the attention they were getting from just about everyone in the vicinity.

“Do you think we should get a petition organised?” Lily asked, her eyes darting to Peter only briefly before they returned to James, who from the grin on his face had to be fully aware he had her almost undivided attention.

“Brilliant idea, Lils,” Martha said. “Here, give me your quill, will you, I’ll be the first name on it.”

By this point I was only vaguely taking their conversation in. Study? What study? I was too busy drooling (unfortunately I mean that literally) to concentrate on anything as complicated as Defence, and Mary kicked me more than once as I faltered when trying to recite various definitions and counter-curses. To tell the truth, when Sirius had taken his shirt off in the first place my mouth had dropped open in awe – some things looked so good they just shouldn’t be shown. It was far too much of a tease, flaunting it like that, particularly when I knew he was beyond my reach.

In fact, the only thing that stopped me from giving up my revision entirely and just watching them was the fact that soon enough my eyes had caught Sirius’ enough times for me to realise it must have been blatantly obvious I was checking him out, and I was sure he’d be convinced I was just like Elvira. And this, while true it its own way, was definitely _not_ an impression I wanted to propagate.

“Well, that was a wasted afternoon,” Charlotte said as we piled into the dorm after dinner. “I hardly got any revision done at all.”

“I wouldn’t necessarily call it _wasted_ ,” Martha said. “I found it most enjoyable.”

“You would,” Lily said, though she was smiling. “I’m surprised you weren’t out there joining in.”

Martha looked horrified. “What, and miss out on that view? You have to be joking.”

“It was a nice one,” Mary admitted. “Quidditch has certainly bin goo’ fer James. Di’ ye see those shoulders?”

Lily gave a start and looked askance at her. Mary giggled. “Wha, I can’ look? Don’ worry, Lily, we all know he’s yers.”

Lily looked like she was about to protest until Martha changed the subject. “Look at Sirius then. No one to get jealous of you then.”

Well, no one but me. But I couldn’t exactly say that.

Fortunately Mary covered for me. “What, aside from Elvira? I’m surprised she wasn’ stakin’ oot a spot on the lawn t’ get a better view.”

“She was there,” I said. Yes I’d had trouble taking my eyes from Sirius, but I was still conscious enough to be aware of my rivals. “Over by the black lake. Greta and Carol, too.”

Martha feigned a groan. “Why am I not surprised. Though, I give her credit for not jumping him on the spot. Didn’t realise she had that much self-control.”

“Hey, what was wi’ Remus?” Mary said suddenly, to my relief taking the conversation away from Sirius. She probably realised how self-conscious I was getting and decided to save me. “Hoo’d he get all those scars on his ches’? I woul’ have thought Madam Pomfrey woul’ fix those in a second.”

“I just figured they were from his rabbit,” Charlotte said.

Martha laughed. “Really? Just how big _is_ that thing?”

“Must be pretty big, if it gave him those scars,” Lily said with a grin.

“They could always be curse scars, I guess,” Martha said thoughtfully. “They’re almost impossible to heal, apparently.”

Mary looked sceptically at her. “Who’d be cursin’ Remus? He’s the least lik’ly oot o’ any o’ them to be targeted.” I knew what she meant – James and Sirius might end up victim of a retaliatory hex, Peter might get in the way accidentally, but Remus was neither provocative nor clumsy.

“Well, either way, they don’t seem to be bothering him,” I said. “Really, though, Charlotte’s right. We need to get some more revision done. So I for one am staying up here for the rest of the night. You know, just in case the boys decide to do it again.”

Charlotte agreed with me, as I knew she would. “Great idea,” she said. “Right, so it’s Defence next. What should we start on first?”

The lack of further distractions mean we all got through the next day’s exams relatively unscathed, even Peter who this year hadn’t made a mess of anything or Vanished anything or anyone he wasn’t supposed to. That left for the second week just Charms, Potions, and a couple of electives – Mary and Martha had Astronomy, Mary had Muggle Studies and Charlotte had Divination, with Care of Magical Creatures and Arithmancy having already taken place.

Potions was first up the following Monday, which as always was a bit of a trial. Let’s face it, making something as complicated as Polyjuice Potion is difficult enough at the best of times, let alone under exam conditions. I didn’t even have Lily at my table to help out and to tell the truth I missed her significantly, even without the distraction of Al Jorkins melting his cauldron halfway through and needing a replacement. However, I persevered and it was with great relief that I realised the sample I handed up at the end of the exam looked more or less like it was supposed to.

The theory paper that afternoon was less difficult than I had thought it would be, which kind of made up for the practical that morning. And Charms a couple of days later was comparatively a breeze – I was even smiling as I successfully cast a Refilling Charm, an Imperturbable Charm and a Confundus Charm (among others) for my elderly examiner. And then it was over: sixth year, as far as I was concerned, had officially finished. Naturally Lily, Charlotte and I waited on Mary and Martha, who still needed to do their Astronomy exam, before we started celebrating, but celebrate we definitely did. It was over, it hadn’t been as bad as we thought, and we only had one more year before we were done, dusted, and qualified.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know. Polyjuice Potion takes a month to brew, what with needing to stew the lacewing flies and pick the fluxweed at the full moon and all that sort of thing. However, my theory was that for an exam like this you could have the pre-stewed lacewing flies and fluxweed all ready, and you just need to put the ingredients in the cauldron in the right order under exam conditions. That would still be hard, right? Yeah, I thought so too. So please don't leave a comment saying I stuffed up because this is something I did realise and think about. Thanks!! :)


	29. Summer holidays

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Driving and Apparition licence tests, Laura acts as bridesmaid for her cousin’s wedding, and the girls all go to Diagon Alley to get their school things – fortunately without a Dementor in sight.

The first few weeks of the summer holidays were all about mobility. Almost as soon as I got home Mum got me straight back in the car so I could do some practice before going for my full driving licence. Since I was the only one of her children who showed any interest in driving whatsoever she took to the task enthusiastically, and before I had been home two weeks she thought I was probably ready to sit the test.

Of course, with her job it wasn’t exactly difficult to set a time, and she even convinced one of her colleagues to examine me on a day when she and Dad could both attend. For my part I practiced diligently and even stopped using Supersensory Charms so I would do everything expected of me in the test. That is, I would drive like a Muggle.

The test itself was surprisingly un-scary, and once I successfully executed a three-point turn, reverse parallel park and hill start (along with everything else), Mum’s colleague advised me I’d done enough to pass.

“How do you feel?” Mum asked.

I hesitated. “I don’t know. I mean, it’s nice, and if I was a Muggle I’m sure I’d be thrilled. But …”

She sighed. “I know. It’s not Apparition. It’s still a useful skill to have, though.”

I couldn’t argue with that. “Yeah, that’s true. Though we only have one car, so I’m not sure I’ll be able to get much practice in.”

Mum grinned. “I’m sure I can get Gareth to take me to work occasionally, when our shifts coincide.” Gareth, who worked with Mum, lived only a few blocks away and so probably wouldn’t mind swinging past to collect her. “And Bea would love you to drive her around. There’s a new film out everyone’s raving about, called _Star Wars_. How about you take her to that?”

In late July my parents finally agreed I could go with Mary to get our Apparition licences, provided I went to London with Dad in the morning, stayed at the Ministry with him until the time of the test, and then left with Mary and her mother. I could Floo home from Mary’s place later that afternoon (amazingly enough, alone – I was astonished they would let me do that unaccompanied!). According to Mum, the streets of London were unsafe for young women travelling alone.

Our tests were booked for eleven o’clock, so I was only at the Ministry for a couple of hours before Mary and her mum arrived. The test was fairly simple – we had to Apparate to the next room and back again, without losing so much as a nose hair. Fortunately Wilkie Twycross actually had taught us well, despite our complaints, and we managed it without issue.

I couldn’t stop smiling when the examiner signed my certificate and handed it to me. _Ah_ , I thought, _this is it. This is what Muggle teenagers felt when the driving examiner told them they’d passed. This is my ticket to freedom, to independence, to what being a proper witch is all about._ Scrolls in hand, Mary and I gave each other a big hug in recognition of the fact we were now really adults. Not just seventeen, but seventeen with Apparition licences. Until now I hadn’t realised what a difference that made.

Mrs Macdonald had waited in the Atrium with the latest copy of _Witch Weekly_ during the test so all we had to do was head back down there afterwards. First, though, we went up to level three, as I wanted to tell Dad I’d passed. He was very pleased but warned me, as parents do, not to try to Apparate home from the Ministry as it was a lot harder going as far as Bristol as it was getting into the next room. I rolled my eyes – did he have to be so fatherly? – and we headed back to the lifts.

Imagine our surprise when the lift doors opened to reveal James and Sirius. They seemed just as shocked to see us, Sirius in particular looking like he couldn’t quite believe his eyes.

James found his voice first. “Laura! Mary! What are you doing here?”

“Apparition tes’,” said Mary, and we both held up our scrolls.

“Both passed, I see,” said Sirius, raking his fingers through his hair distractedly. “But isn’t that downstairs somewhere?”

“It is,” I said, “but I wanted to tell my dad, and he works up here.”

“What does he do?” James asked. He probably didn’t care in the slightest but felt he had to ask, so I kept the answer brief.

“Muggle Liaison with the Obliviators.”

Mary decided to rescue them from such tedious subjects. “What are you doin’ here?”

“I had to register change of address details,” Sirius said.

“Oh, you found a place? Great!” I couldn’t have said why I was so pleased for him but I was; I knew he was really keen to get a place of his own.

“Yep, in Wimbledon, down south a bit,” he said, smiling back and pushing his hair out of his eyes. _Ah, that smile again_ , I thought, feeling my knees go weak. I hadn’t seen him for the best part of a month and had forgotten just how attractive he was. _Settle down, Laura, settle down_. Expelling any improper thoughts from my mind, I forced my face into a more solemn expression.

Mary’s brow furrowed. “I though’ ye were living wi’ James?”

James laughed. “He was, but he came into some gold and insists on paying his own way. Stubborn, I call it.”

Sirius looked uncomfortable and changed the subject. “Hey, we’re about to head out for a bite to eat – did you want to join us?”

I shook my head. “Sorry, can’t. We’re meeting Mary’s mum in the Atrium.”

Mary was grinning. “Aye, someone’s parents won’ let her oot in London wi’oot a qualified chaperone. They’re worried the Death Eaters will ge’ her.”

I groaned. “Even Muggle London, can you believe it? And to think I was hoping to get some driving in.”

“Right,” said James. “I guess we can’t argue with parental orders. For those of us who still listen to our parents, that is.” He grinned at Sirius, who was looking at me curiously.

“Driving? You mean Muggle driving?”

“Yeah, why?”

James looked impressed. “You can drive? That is so cool!”

I smiled to myself at the irony of James Potter calling _me_ cool I could hear Mary laughing again. “James, Sirius, mee’ Laura, half Muggle, whose mother works fer the Muggle police. Aye, she can drive.”

“I don’t drive very well, though,” I said  as the lift doors opened and we all trundled out. “I’ve only just got my full licence. Hence the need for practice.”

“You can teach us, though, right?” asked James, his eyes on Sirius.

I rolled my eyes – just when I would be able to teach them to drive was beyond me. I mean, it wasn’t like we could go out on a Hogsmeade weekend or something. “Yeah, why not.”

The boys exchanged wicked grins and I wondered exactly what I had just agreed to. Fortunately I spied Mrs Macdonald in her seat just beyond the Fountain of Magical Brethren, _Witch Weekly_ apparently finished. “Okay, boys, there’s our lift,” I said. “Nice to bump into you, we’ll see you at school.” And we grinned and took off, me hoping my cheeks weren’t scarlet.

“Look, Ma!” Mary said happily. “Both passed!”

“First time and everything,” I added.

She looked pleased. “Well done, girls! Ready to go then?”

“Sure, Mrs Mac,” I said, making a strong effort not to look over my shoulder for Sirius. It was only with a tidy bit of self-control and concentration on things like breathing out and in that I made it to the Floo exits without once looking back.

Once back at the Macdonald household, Mary tackled me over lunch. “Hoo did ye know Sirius was movin’ oot?”

“What?” My mind was still on his smile and my concentration wasn’t at its best.

“Ye’re still thinkin’ aboot him, aren’t ye.”

I tried to look ashamed, hoping it wasn’t too obvious he’d pretty much turned me into a quivering wreck. Which, if I was counting, would make my score Quivering Wreck 1; Laura 0. “Maybe. I’d forgotten just how gorgeous he is.”

She laughed. “Ye are gone on him. I’ve definitely seen him lookin’ better than he did today, he looked like he’d jus’ go’ oot o’ bed. Hadn’ shaved or anything. Anyway,” she went on, smiling at my embarrassment as I tried (unsuccessfully) not to imagine Sirius getting out of bed, “ye soonded lik’ ye already knew he was leavin’ the Potters’. Hoo did ye know tha’?”

“Oh,” I said, “he told me. After one of the exams.”

Her eyebrows rose. “He tol’ ye? I though’ he never tol’ anyone tha’ sort o’ thing.”

“I must have beat it out of him,” I said, casting my mind back to the conversation. “Something was bothering him so I asked him what it was. And he sat and thought about it for a bit, and then he said he’d inherited some gold and he was pleased because it meant he could move out of the Potters’. He wasn’t comfortable living off charity, I think was how he put it.”

Mary whistled, looking rather impressed. “I don’ know what it is aboot ye, bu’ ye always manage t’ ge’ this sor’ o’ stuff oot o’ people. Good thing ye’re no’ the gossipin’ type, isn’ it.”

“If I was, I suspect no one would tell me anything.”

“Where’d he ge’ the gold?” Mary asked. “Wasn’ he disinherited?”

“Yeah, he was,” I said. “Apparently he had an uncle who he got along well with, and he died. He was a bit upset no one had told him about it; it was only when McGonagall told him about the will that he found out it had happened.”

“Nasty,” said Mary. “I knew there was a reason I still ge’ along wi’ my family.”

“Absolutely. Though, to be fair, his does sound like one of the worst.”

“Aye, the Blacks are a strange lot. All fer blood purity an’ tha’ sor’ o’ bollocks. He did well t’ ge’ oot.”

I smiled wryly. “Well, let’s face it, Mary, if he didn’t then we wouldn’t be having this conversation in the first place. Not with me a half-blood.”

She grinned. “Aye, yer right, o’ course. Though tha’ woul’ mak’ my life a wee bi’ easier …” And she ducked, too late, as I threw a bread roll at her.

****

In early August I had another obligation, which was to be bridesmaid when my cousin Gwendolyn married Morgan Llewellyn. Bea and I were chosen for the role as her closest female relatives, and we’d been sending owls back and forth regarding dress measurements and dancing lessons.

“Okay, Bea,” I said the day before we were due to leave, “our dresses are finished so we just have to collect them from the dressmaker when we get there.”

She stopped hexing the dog, whose ears were emitting sparks, and looked at me. “Our dresses?”

I rolled my eyes. “Remember, bridesmaid duties? Why do you think we’ve been taking those dancing lessons?”

She scrunched up her face, thinking. “Oh yeah. When’s the wedding again?”

Typical Bea. No interest in anything beyond her own little world. “Saturday. And the rehearsal’s tomorrow so we have to get there by midday.”

“And what’re the dresses like?” Bea asked. I pulled out the Gwendolyn’s photograph of the finished gowns, which were simple, straight and violet-coloured, and showed her. “I’m not wearing _that_ ,” she said immediately. “I’d look like a stick of lavender.”

“Better than looking like a chrysanthemum,” I muttered. Unfortunately she heard me.

“Chrysanthemum? That dress I liked doesn’t look like a chrysanthemum!”

“Right,” I said. “You think that if it makes you happy.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Look, Bea, we’re bridesmaids. Not the bride. We don’t actually have a say in what we wear. Whatever Gwendolyn wants to put us in, we put on. Get it? So no whinging about a dress you saw at Gladrags ages ago that did, I repeat, make you look like a chrysanthemum.”

Bea pouted. “I still don’t want to wear _that_ ,” she insisted, poking a finger at the picture. “It’s too plain. I want something fancier.”

I sighed. “Whatever. How about you send an owl to Gwendolyn now and let her know? That way she still has, I don’t know, almost two days to find something else for us. Because it’s not like she’s got much on her plate right now, trying to organise a wedding and everything.”

She looked chastened. “I suppose you’re right. I still say I’ll look like a stick of lavender though.”

“It could be worse,” I said with a grin. “She could have dressed us as Banshees. This way at least we can still pass for human.”

“Well, I guess, when you put it like that …”

The next morning Bea accompanied me as I Apparated more than a few miles for the first time. The rehearsal went fine and everyone except the groomsmen gathered at Uncle Boreas’ house for dinner afterwards. The older generation made their excuses after the meal and retired early, leaving the rest of us with the best part of a case of wine. Before long the conversation turned to what we knew of Voldemort and the Death Eaters.

“They’ve been mostly Slytherins, from what I’ve heard,” my cousin Rhys said. “You know, people like Selwyn and Travers. The old pure-blood families who are dead keen on staying pure-blood.”

“It’s not just the old families, though,” said Gwendolyn, pouring several goblets of wine and handing them around. “Goyle from our year has signed up too. His picture was in the paper after that attack on Diagon Alley, his mask had slipped and it was definitely him. And they haven’t been around all that long from what I know.”

“Yaxley and Dolohov, too, I understand,” said Morgan. “You’re right, Rhys, they are all Slytherins.”

“Don’t forget Lucius Malfoy,” said Beatrice, her glass already half empty. A few years above her, Malfoy had made her life difficult for much of her early time at Hogwarts. “I’m sure he’s joined up, he was spouting that stuff all the time.”

Gwendolyn and Morgan shared a look. “Yeah, he was pretty nasty,” Morgan said, and I realised Malfoy had probably been in their year. “Arrogant, thought being a Malfoy made him royalty.”

“A bit like the Blacks, then,” Rhys said. The reference to Sirius’ family took me by surprise and I dropped my goblet. It shattered on the floor and drenched me in elderflower wine.

“ _Reparo_ ,” I muttered, keeping my face down and hoping any blushes would be attributed to the accident.

Fortunately Rhys ignored my discomfort and just poured me another drink. “I know that Bellatrix Black, who’s now Bellatrix Lestrange, is right in there with the Death Eaters.” He had been at school with Bellatrix, who was Sirius’ cousin and from all accounts was a brilliant but nasty piece of work. “But not all of them have joined up. Seems Andromeda Black – she was the middle sister – married Ted Tonks, and he’s Muggle-born.” I grinned despite myself: the Blacks would have loved that. I wondered if she’d been disinherited too.

“There was even a Black put in Gryffindor, wasn’t there?” asked Gwendolyn. “I’m sure I remember that happening, something like my sixth or seventh year. It was a pretty big deal at the time.”

I tried not to look at anyone, hoping I wouldn’t have to comment. And to think I’d been under the impression that a weekend with my cousins would be enough to temporarily expel him from my mind. (Yeah, like that was even possible.) Unfortunately Bea, as always, said the precise thing I was hoping she wouldn’t. “I remember that. He’s in your year, isn’t he, Laura?”

“Uh, yeah, that’s Sirius,” I said, hoping my cheeks were their usual colour. “He’s in my year, and he’s definitely in Gryffindor.” I drank some wine as another excuse not to look at any of them.

“There you go, then,” Rhys said triumphantly. “With him and Andromeda, maybe the Blacks are turning.”

I shook my head, inwardly chastising myself for being unable to keep out of this conversation. Honestly, any chance to talk about Sirius and I was jumping at it. Couldn’t I have just a little more self-restraint? “I don’t think so. His younger brother is in Slytherin like the rest of them. And his parents have disowned him. So maybe he’s the black sheep, so to speak.”

“Or the white sheep, considering they’re the Blacks,” Bea said.

Morgan’s shocked face disrupted our laughter. “They disowned him just because he was put in Gryffindor?”

“No, he ran away from home or something,” I said, pretending I wasn’t keenly interested in the story. “A year or two ago. He’d had enough, apparently. They disowned him then, he’s living with a mate of his now as far as I know.” Not strictly true, I realised, but for me to know too much might have raised an eyebrow or two.

“You seem to know a tidy bit about it,” said Gwendolyn anyway, flashing me a grin.

I shrugged and Bea – to my surprise – came to my rescue. “Remember, Laura’s in Gryffindor too. So they’re in the same House.”

“That’s right, so you were,” said Gwendolyn. “I’m so used to us all being Hufflepuffs I’d forgotten about the traitors in our midst.” She smiled broadly at Beatrice and me.

“Back to the Blacks, Narcissa Black is going to marry Malfoy, I saw that in the paper,” said Bea, changing the subject to my great relief. “So it looks like she’s reverting to type.”

Morgan just nodded, though this was clearly news to him. “Like I said, the Malfoys reckon they’re royalty, just like the Blacks, so that was probably planned from birth.”

Gwendolyn shuddered. “Yep, she thought a lot of herself, too, from memory. Narcissa was such a good name for her. They’re probably a perfect match.”

We all nodded our agreement as Rhys got up and opened another bottle of wine. “Right, then,” he said. “Who’s up for a refill?”

The wedding the next day went off without a problem. We hadn’t been particularly worried about Death Eater attacks as Gwendolyn and Morgan were both pure-bloods, but there was always a risk someone in the party could have offended the wrong people. (Like Bea, for example. She was a prime candidate for that sort of thing.) In fact, it was almost surprising the bride and groom had waited seven years to get married, as quick elopements were fast becoming the preferred option.

The next morning, still in Wales and nursing a minor hangover, I was startled by Cerridwyn’s appearance at my bedroom window. She had a letter from Lily, which surprised me as I hadn’t realised she’d been anywhere near Warwickshire. _Ah well, this is what happens when you give an owl its head_ , I thought, opening the letter with interest.

> _Dear Laura_
> 
> _I wasn’t sure where you were at the moment to write to you, so I was so pleased when Cerridwyn came to visit!_
> 
> _I wanted to get in touch because I’ve had an idea. After the attack last week on Diagon Alley I thought you might have trouble getting permission to go to London to get your school things. Charlotte is having the same problem and even my parents, who don’t know what’s happening in our world, are somewhat hesitant._
> 
> _So, to get past this, I’m proposing that the five of us girls get together in the week before school goes back, and do all our shopping as a group. I’ve already contacted Mary about this and her mum has agreed to accompany us, as has my dad (he needs to change money at Gringotts anyway before I can buy anything). So we’ll be well chaperoned._
> 
> _I thought we could meet in the Leaky Cauldron on Thursday 25 th at ten o’clock. You can either Apparate or Floo there, and if your mum or dad wants to come too they’re most welcome._
> 
> _Anyway, please write back as soon as you can so I know who can come, and if the day’s bad we have time to change it. But, like I said, there’s definitely safety in numbers and with five of us, all of age now, plus two chaperones we should be fine._
> 
> _Love,  
>  Lily_
> 
> _PS I’ve been made Head Girl, can you believe it? I got the letter last week. Even my parents are excited, they might be Muggles but this is something they can understand._

I smiled as I found some owl treats for Cerridwyn after her long journey. If anyone was going to come up with a way we could catch up before school started, it would be Lily. And of course she’d been made Head Girl – who else could they possibly have chosen?

I showed the letter to Dad, thinking he would be more likely to say yes than Mum. As a policewoman Mum had seen the very worst of society, and was therefore more hesitant to let Bea and I do very much at all lest we be set upon by the Death Eaters she was convinced were lurking around every corner. And, let’s face it, the Dementor attack the previous summer hadn’t exactly quelled her fears.

Fortunately Lily had made her arguments well, and that afternoon Cerridwyn flew to Warwickshire saying I could go. Dad didn’t seem to have clicked that Lily’s dad was a Muggle, and therefore useless as a chaperone against Death Eaters, and I saw absolutely no reason to enlighten him.

The others were already at the Leaky Cauldron when I arrived, dusting myself off and making sure I still had everything I needed. We all hugged and I greeted Mary’s mum and Lily’s dad, who I’d met just once previously, before we set off out the back into Diagon Alley.

I was struck by how much it had deteriorated in the past year. Last time, half the shops had been closed and shabby stalls were sprouting up peddling protective amulets the like. This year, it was even worse. The only places that seemed to still be trading, aside from the stalls which had multiplied exponentially, were Gringotts, Flourish & Blotts, Ollivander’s, Madam Malkin’s and Bobbin’s, and they were very possibly only open for the back-to-school traffic. Further up the lane I could see what looked like a curse battle taking place, jets of light bouncing off the empty buildings, and everyone was moving quickly, in large groups. Overall the mood was rather depressing and I guessed the disappointed looks on the girls’ faces were mirrored on my own.

This wasn’t helped by the fact that further up ahead were what looked like Death Eaters, hooded and masked, who appeared to be just wandering up the street being generally intimidating. This happened a lot, and when they were accosted by Aurors they either Disapparated or entered into a full battle right on the street. Yes, some were occasionally caught, but it was assumed these were junior members, expendable, who patrolled Diagon Alley as part of their training. In any case, not wanting to be caught up in anything to do with them, we all caught our breath and waited, frozen, until they were out of sight.

“Wands out, girls,” Mrs Macdonald muttered, rather belatedly as we had already done so. “We don’t know if there are any more of them. Stay here till I give the word.” We grouped up tightly, Mr Evans looking extremely pale as he realised the extent of the war in his daughter’s world.

Finally the hooded figures disappeared, and Mrs Macdonald allowed us into the street proper. First stop was Gringotts, where we all had to pick up some gold so we could actually shop. The bank too had had its security increased, and there were waits of up to two hours to access your money. In this case Lily was the lucky one, as the queue to change Muggle money over to Galleons, Sickles and Knuts was significantly shorter than that to get into the vaults below.

Luckily for whatever reason we managed to get through comparatively quickly, and by quarter past eleven we all had jingling purses and were back outside on the dank street. Ignoring the large Ministry of Magic posters on every empty shop façade, we hurried to buy our school supplies and get out of there. Even our usual schoolgirl chatter was tempered as we moved through the bookshop and apothecary in silence, the gravity of the atmosphere around us almost overwhelming.

Finally we made it back in the Leaky Cauldron. That too was empty and foreboding, and Lily suggested that we go into Muggle London for lunch, surprising me when she said it was only one o’clock. We all agreed eagerly and Mr Evans, who looked rather harried after his sojourn into the wizarding world, even offered to pay on the condition that we became cheerful again. After all, with an ill wife he probably had enough anxiety at home to last him a lifetime. Mrs Macdonald, however, had to get back to work and took her leave of us, leaving us a group of six.

“So, Lils, Head Girl,” Charlotte said as we settled in a nearby café. “You must be pleased with that.”

“Depends on who the Head Boy is, though, doesn’t it,” Martha said perceptively.

Lily nodded. “Yes, I don’t think I could work with Gibbon all year,” she said, giggling slightly. “But seriously, it’s a great honour, I didn’t realise Dumbledore thought so highly of me!”

“An’ why wouldn’ he?” said Mary. “End o’ las’ term ye were even keepin’ James Potter in check!”

“And that’s saying something,” said Martha. “Though I suspect he was keeping himself in check. But then again, that was due to Lily as well, so you might as well take credit.” She winked at Lily across the table.

Lily had been casting furtive glances at her father ever since James’ name came up, but he appeared impassive. Regardless, she changed the subject. “So, is there any gossip from the summer that I don’t know about?”

Mary looked at me. “We bumped int’ James an’ Sirius las’ month a’ the Ministry,” she said, instantly disappointing Lily if she had hoped to keep James out of the conversation. “Sirius was changin’ his address a’ the Hall o’ Records; he’d jus’ moved oot o’ the Potters’ place.”

Martha looked most surprised. “What?”

“An’ whats even stranger,” Mary went on, “was tha’ Laura knew aboot it an’ didn’ tell us.”

“That’s not strictly true,” I said. “I knew he planned to move house. I didn’t know it had happened.”

“How did you know that?” Charlotte asked.

“He told me. After one of the exams last term.”

Martha and Charlotte looked surprised and demanded more information, though through their questions I heard Lily muttering something that sounded like, “Of course he did.”

Deciding to ignore Lily, I took a deep breath and hoped my cheeks were their usual colour. “You know how sometimes people like to talk to me about their problems? Well, that was one of those times. He had something he needed to get off his chest and I just happened to be there.”

Lily was watching me shrewdly and I could almost see the cogs in her brain moving. I hoped ardently that she hadn’t guessed my guilty little secret: Lily was pretty cluey and I wasn’t sure I liked the look on her face.

“So this was a problem, was it?” she asked. “Why did he move? I thought he and James were getting along fine.”

“He came int’ some gol’, apparently,” Mary said. “Too prood t’ live off charity, was tha’ it, Laura?”

“That’s about it,” I said. “He wasn’t comfortable living off someone else’s money, so as soon as he could afford it he was out. Got an inheritance after a renegade uncle died.” I looked at Lily. “That was the problem, by the way – the uncle had died and no one had told him about it. He wasn’t too pleased.”

“Why was he a renegade?” Charlotte looked curious.

“Renegade to the Blacks. That is, he left Sirius some gold so he had to be a renegade, by definition.”

“Right,” said Martha. “Well, watch the fan club swell up once this gets out. Independent, financially solvent and living alone, no less. They’ll probably be camped out on his doorstep.”

Mary was grinning. “Well, then, Laura, we’d better mak’ sure we don’ leak where it is. Elvira woul’ be doon there quicker than ye can say Quidditch.”

“You know that too?” Lily looked surprised this time. “He’s not normally that open with that sort of information, is he?”

“Not usually,” said Martha, her eyebrows too moving up her forehead.

“We don’t know precisely where it is,” I said. “Just the suburb. I couldn’t tell you though if it’s a house or a flat or a hole in the ground.”

“Still,” mused Lily, as if to herself. Again, I wasn’t sure I liked the look on her face.

Fortunately Martha came to my rescue. “In other news, Duncan and I broke up.”

“What?!” They’d seemed such a good match.

“Yeah, well, I’m going back to school next week,” she said, “so I’d not be able to see him until Christmas. So we thought we’d call it a day and, if we’re both single and interested this time next year, we’ll pick up where we left off.”

“That’s awful,” Charlotte said sympathetically. “Are you very upset?”

“A bit,” Martha admitted. “But it’s the only option. We can’t keep going if we’re never going to see each other. And let’s face it, I would probably have got bored of him in another couple of months anyway, like I do with everyone else.”

Mary nodded. “Marcus an’ I are breakin’ up too. Same reason. Well, no’ the bored one, bu’ the no’ seein’ each other one.”

I stared at her. “I didn’t know that!” And I was supposed to be her best friend.

She nodded again, looking a little sad. “Well, I’m no’ exactly thrilled aboot it, bu’ what else coul’ we do? If we were still together an’ I didn’ see him fer four months tha’ woul’ be worse, I’d be wonderin’ aboot him all the time, an’ hopin’ he’s no’ doing a Bertram on me, an’ feelin’ guilty fer checking anyone oot myself.”

Lily, next to her, gave her a sympathetic hug. “That’s very noble of you, Mary.”

Eventually the conversation wound up and Mr Evans, true to his word, paid what I suspected ended up being rather a hefty bill. We all thanked him profusely as we made our way back to the Leaky Cauldron. “See you next week, girls,” I grinned as I stepped into the fireplace. Their smiling faces stayed with me as I hurtled through the Floo network back home.


	30. Getting to their Heads

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of seventh year brings new responsibilities for the new Head Girl and Head Boy, and the appointments to those positions just bring a lot of gossip and speculation for everyone else.

The first of September that year was unseasonably warm as summer insisted on stretching on longer than usual. As a result most of the students turned up at Kings Cross station in light summer clothes, trying to stay cool before we headed north. True to fashion many of the girls were wearing miniskirts, which didn’t go unnoticed by the boys on the train, and James in particular I noticed looked awestruck when he saw Lily’s short dress and platform heels.

We all met up on the platform and before long Lily had hurriedly put her robes on over her dress, no doubt disappointing James and half the other boys there. “If I’m Head Girl,” she explained, “I really should be setting a good example.” She affixed the Head Girl pin proudly and twirled around for us. “Well? How does it look?”

How did any pin on black school robes look? Small, to be truthful. But we weren’t about to say that. “It looks great, Lils,” Martha said with a grin. “Really sets off your hair.”

Lily shot her a look and stopped pirouetting. “I’ll find a compartment with you but then I’ll have to head up to the prefects’ carriage to give the newbies their instructions. Has anyone seen who the Head Boy is yet?”

As if to answer her question James stopped while walking past our gathering. “Morning, ladies,” he said airily with a grin. “Uh, Lily, can I have a word please?” He was already in his school robes as well, which was most out of character, but maybe he did it to impress Lily. She looked as baffled by his request as the rest of us were – I mean, we all knew he fancied her, but it wasn’t like him to be so, er, _polite_ about it all – but she nodded her acquiescence and followed him to a spot about five yards away.

My parents, who had been catching up with Mary’s mum in the background, beckoned me over. “Sweetheart, we have to head off,” Dad called, looking a bit harried. He was more stressed than usual due to the war and its implications for all Ministry employees, not just those in law enforcement, and was keen to get to work even though it was a Sunday. My mother would never stay on the platform alone in a million years, so would obviously join him. I hurried over to say farewell to them properly.

“Now, remember what we talked about and study hard this year,” Dad said. “A lot depends on your NEWT grades and I want you to be able to do what you want to once you’ve finished.” I smiled but groaned inwardly – we’d had this talk several times and all it seemed to reinforce in me was the fact that as far as Dad was concerned I wasn’t allowed to have any fun until the following June.

“And look after yourself,” Mum added. “Don’t do anything reckless and stay in groups when you go to Hogsmeade, I don’t like the sound of the security up there.” Typical. She always did have a copper’s perspective. Though I wasn’t convinced Hogsmeade visits would be going ahead at all this year anyway, what with the Dementors the previous May. Mum must have seen my face because she gave me a sudden smile. “And don’t forget to have fun. Make sure you enjoy this year, it’s the last year you’ll have of no responsibility. Try to make the most of it.”

This time I smiled for real. “Thanks, Mum. I’ll be fine, I promise.” And I gave them both a hug and waved them off the platform.

By the time I got back to the group Sirius, Remus and Peter had joined the girls and Sirius, the tallest by at least four or five inches, had plainly seen me coming over everyone else’s heads and moved over to make room. The conversation was speculating about what Lily and James were taking so long to discuss. So far the money seemed to be on a declaration of undying love (from James, that is), until Remus let slip another alternative.

“I’d better grab them before it’s too late,” he said, looking at his watch. “We’ve all got to get to the prefects’ carriage before the fifth-years beat us to it.”

“All?” Charlotte asked. “Why would James need to go there?”

Sirius looked surprised. “Didn’t we say? Dumbledore’s made him Head Boy.”

You could have knocked me over with a feather, and by the looks on Mary’s, Charlotte’s and Martha’s faces they were having the same reaction. Mary found her voice first. “James? Head Boy? Where did tha’ come from?”

“No idea, we were as surprised as you are,” he said. “But it’s not a joke, he’s got the badge and everything.”

Martha giggled. “This should be interesting.”

Remus nodded. “I know. James Potter, Head Boy. Merlin only knows what he’ll get up to.”

Martha shook her head. “That’s not what I meant. Lily’s Head Girl.”

Now it was the boys’ turn to look gobsmacked. Remus’ face was a cross between horror and amusement, Peter looked like he was in shock, while Sirius just started laughing. “Oh, that’s brilliant,” he said. “Those two having to work together all year. He won’t know what’s hit him.”

Peter clearly agreed. “How long before she caves in, do you reckon?”

Charlotte grinned. “If James knows what’s good for him, he’ll not push it at all,” she said wisely. “Lily’s much more likely to take the bait if it’s not forced down her throat all the time.”

“You’re not wrong,” said Sirius rather heavily, and I suspected he wasn’t thinking about Lily and James at all, but rather Elvira and the rest of the fan club, who unsurprisingly were perched nearby.

Remus’ face had an expression halfway between a smile and a frown. “In any case, I think I’d better rouse those two lovebirds out of their stupor,” he said. “It’s almost ten to eleven, we really have to get a move on. More so if they’re Head Boy and Girl.”

A moment later Lily and James came back to the group, their faces both a little bit pink which made me wonder what exactly they had been discussing. Lily looked at the rest of us. “We’ve got to go,” she said a little breathlessly. “Can you load up my trunk and save me a spot in the compartment? I don’t think we’ll have to be up at the prefects’ carriage all day.”

“Sure, Lils,” said Martha with a grin I was sure Lily didn’t like all that much. At least, if it had been me I wouldn’t have liked it.

“Same for us, Padfoot,” said James. “Find a compartment and we’ll join you when we can.”

Loading our trunks onto the train gave me a welcome diversion from Sirius, who was looking better than ever – if that was even possible. I hadn’t seen him since we’d bumped into him at the Ministry back in July and was almost awestruck by his appearance - his hair was just the right length, his eyes had a most attractive sparkle to them and I wasn’t convinced cheekbones that perfect were even legal. And I hadn’t failed to notice I’d been standing next to him during the conversation and his arm had kept brushing against mine as people pushed past us to get to the train. Due to the warm weather, we both had short sleeves on so that meant skin on skin. I still had tingles from it. (Quivering Wreck 2; Laura 0. But who’s counting?)

Unfortunately my diversion wasn’t to last, as Sirius and Peter insisted on helping us with our trunks. What with five trunks, two bird cages and a cat carrier thrown into the mix, it was always going to be a convoluted process, especially since the other girls all wore miniskirts and were therefore moving very carefully. I had bucked the trend by wearing shorts and a t-shirt, more for practical reasons than anything else as I didn’t relish the thought of clambering around with trunks and bird cages and the like in a short skirt, and due to that I ended up packing various things onto the luggage rack for everyone else.

The trouble was that this again put me in close contact with Sirius, who was really the only option to help us out in any meaningful way. After all, he was significantly taller and also more sensible than Peter who, realising he was just in the way, had gone to secure another compartment for the boys. Together we manoeuvred various bits of luggage, trying to make sure everything fit and nothing would come tumbling down on our heads the first time the train went round a bend, me trying not to let on that my knees were a little weak at his proximity. (Quivering Wreck 3; Laura 0. Great. I really was coping with this so well.) Finally everything was in place, which would have been good except my left hand was wedged underneath Charlotte’s trunk and I couldn’t get it out, a result of not paying enough attention to what I was doing.

“Uh oh,” I said, wincing as the heavy trunk pressed down on my hand. “Little help?”

Sirius, who’d seemed somewhat distracted, suddenly noticed what was wrong. “Oh, geez, Laura, I’m sorry,” he said, lifting the trunk effortlessly. “Is your hand all right?” He looked amazing and I was more than a little unfocused. Why I hadn’t just pulled out my wand and levitated the trunk myself I had no idea, but then I didn’t always think clearly when he was around.

I sat down and shook the hand in front of me. It felt okay and I didn’t think anything was broken, though it was throbbing slightly. “It’s fine,” I said, feeling it with my other hand to check for broken bones. “Doesn’t matter anyway, I’ve got another one.” I felt myself tensing up, a physical reaction to his presence that was fast becoming my defence mechanism, making sure I didn’t do anything that would embarrass me.

He chuckled but a look of concern very quickly replaced his smile. “You should get that looked at. Look, once we get there, don’t try pulling any of that stuff down yourself, okay? That’s what the porters are for.”

I nodded, pretending not to notice the grin Mary was flashing at me from the seat opposite. “If you insist.”

“Yes, I think I do.” He paused, looking around the compartment. “If I’m done here, I think I’ll go find where Wormtail has landed us.”

Fortunately Mary realised I was rather preoccupied and, once we were alone again, quickly steered the conversation away from Sirius. “What do ye think o’ Dumbledore makin’ James Potter Head Boy?”

“A surprise, to say the least,” said Martha with a smile.

“Yeah, he wasn’t a prefect,” Charlotte said, a perplexed look on her face. “He can’t be Head Boy if he wasn’t a prefect. That’s unprecedented.”

“Not quite,” I said, glad to have something to think about that wasn’t Sirius. “I’m pretty sure it’s happened before, but only like a dozen times in the thousand or so years Hogwarts has been going. I think it’s mentioned somewhere in _Hogwarts: A History_.”

“Bu’ why him?” asked Mary.

Martha was frowning. “Thinking seriously about it, though, who would you have given it to?” She started counting the previous term’s sixth-year prefects off on her fingers. “Caradoc Dearborn – he’s nice enough but I don’t know he’s Head Boy material. I think the extra responsibility might finish him off, personally. Bernie Carmichael – he’s okay, actually before today he was my tip for it, but frankly I suspect he might struggle in too much of a leadership role. Remus – keeps getting the lurgy which probably counts against him, as well as chasing around after that darn rabbit half the time. And Gibbon – I really can’t see Dumbledore giving the Head Boy job to a Slytherin, not in this day and age.”

“And James did show exceptional leadership with that whole Dementor thing last term,” I added, thinking back. “Dumbledore commented on it more than once when he was debriefing us afterwards.”

“Tha’ might have bin it,” said Mary. “Ye can’ deny he did tha’ verra well an’ all.”

“Poor Lily,” Charlotte giggled. “If she thought she’d be able to avoid him this year she’s had a horrible shock.”

Martha shook her head. “Who says she wanted to avoid him?” she asked, that wicked smile back on her face. “The only problem is she won’t be able to see him just on her terms. Which will be a bit of a shock to the system, I suspect.”

Some flashes of light in the passage outside our compartment interrupted our conversation, and the door opened to once more reveal Sirius and Peter, who were apparently bored and had come to see us again. “You don’t mind, do you?” Sirius asked as he climbed over the prone body of Severus Snape lying on the floor of the corridor. “It was a bit quiet with just Wormtail.”

Charlotte just raised her eyebrows at him. “So what happened there?” she asked, pointing at the spot where Snape was now hidden by the closed compartment door.

Sirius shrugged as he sat down next to Mary, his movements almost awkward as he tried to find room for his long legs. “That? Oh, he’s just been Stunned. No permanent damage.” He looked slightly disappointed by that fact.

“And why was he Stunned?” Martha asked.

“He was in the way,” Peter said.

“Trying to get in to see Lily, I expect.” Sirius shrugged again. “I didn’t actually stop to ask, to be honest. I don’t think he even realised she’s not back yet.”

“An’ ye’re jus’ going t’ leave him there?” asked Mary.

“Fair point,” Sirius said, standing up again. “I’ll go dump him somewhere. Any suggestions as to where? Out the window, perhaps?” He grinned at us and I felt my cheeks starting to burn.

Fortunately leaving Severus wherever he did leave him took long enough for me to recover my composure, and by the time he re-joined us in the compartment I was almost breathing normally again.

“That’s better,” he said, sitting next to Mary again. “Good thing I moved him, too, it wouldn’t have been very nice for the others to come back from the prefects’ carriage and find that sort of rubbish lying around outside.”

I smiled to myself as I leaned over to pick up Mary’s cat, which was nestled by my feet. Having Circe on my lap, I theorised, would give me something to pay attention to that wasn’t Sirius. “Who would have thought you, of all people, would end up with your best friends as authority figures?” I said lightly, playing with the cat’s fur as I tried not to look at him too much.

He grinned again, validating my resolve to play with the cat a bit more. After all, no one should have a smile that seductive. “Can’t argue with that. Prongs, too, the king of detentions. I think he’s even had more than I have over the years. He may never live this down.” He shook his head, leaning forward in his seat and resting his elbows on his knees. “Don’t know what’s got into him, myself.”

Martha nodded, giggling. “Absolutely. James and Remus both in positions of power. Merlin only knows how much will go to their heads.”

“At least one thing’s for certain,” Peter said from Lily’s seat, where he was lounging back looking rather comfortable. “We won’t get in nearly as much trouble with him backing us up.”

We shared a laugh at the thought of James passing off all the boys’ pranks as things necessary for him to perform his Head Boy duties properly. He did have the gift of the gab, so it was possible he might just pull it off sometimes, though probably not if he was trying to convince McGonagall or Dumbledore. I stayed relatively quiet throughout the conversation though, not wanting to say too much in case I embarrassed myself or, worse, let on anything at all about what I thought of Sirius.

Eventually Lily poked her head back in the compartment, indicating that the Head duties were completed and James and Remus were also free. She looked pointedly at Peter, in her seat, and Sirius, next to Mary, before coming back in.

“I’m not sure we’ll all fit, people.” She had a point – while six of us could fit reasonably well, there was no way known the compartment would take nine.

James poked his head over Lily’s shoulder. “I think it’s high time you were getting back to our compartment anyway, Padfoot,” he said. “That’s if it’s the one I think it is. The gigglers have found your trunk.”

Sirius groaned. “I knew we shouldn’t have left it unattended,” he muttered, shaking his head, though I caught his eye and it was twinkling. “What are they doing this time, trying on my clothes or planting love potions?” Even though he was smiling I got the distinct impression he was only half joking.

James grinned. “Both, probably. And I think some of them have even had a go at my trunk, just for good measure. Now come on and leave these girls in peace, will you?”

Lily stepped back outside while Peter and Sirius left, then came in and plonked herself down with a smile. “This could be a rather interesting year,” she admitted.

“We heard James was Head Boy,” Charlotte said with a grin. “And you’ll have to be working closely with him all year …” She let her voice trail off.

Lily nodded. “And, you know, a year or two ago that would have been a nightmare. Always watching me or propositioning me and making lewd suggestions and goodness only knows what else. But he was most restrained today, not a hand out of place, not one inappropriate comment or even a leer. I think he’s growing up.” She looked rather pleased.

Martha was smiling. “So are we taking bets? How long before he jumps you? Or do you think he might even have grown up enough to not even try without getting permission first?”

Lily looked rather pink. “How about we leave the betting for now,” she said, colouring even more. “I’ll let you know in another week or so.”

Mary had a rather wicked look in her eye. “I think we’d be better off takin’ bets on who jumps who firs’,” she said with a grin. “If James is this restrained it might jus’ be Lily here who caves in afore he does.”

Martha grinned at her. “Mary, you’re a girl after my own heart. I think you might be spot on.”

Lily was shaking her head furiously. “I don’t know what you mean,” she said, though it was clear she was trying harder to convince herself than anyone else. “

Mary chose to change the subject to get Martha off the hook. “Hoo’s yer ma going, Lily? Copin’ wi’ the treatmen’ all right?”

Lily looked up and Martha gratefully dropped the bear hug. “She’s in remission at the moment,” Lily said. “She was pretty ill at the end of last term, apparently, but Dad said my being home perked her up a lot. I almost felt guilty to be coming back.”

“Oh, don’t beat yourself up,” I said. “You can’t help having to come back to school. At least you were able to give her a couple of months, and you’ll be going home at Christmas.”

She smiled appreciatively at me. “I know. And she was loads better, almost like the old times before she was ill. Oh! And I met Vernon. You know, Petunia’s boyfriend.”

Charlotte looked curious.  “So what’s he like? This Vernon – what was the name again? Dirty?”

“Dursley,” Lily said. “So she would be Petunia Dursley. And, oh my goodness, he’s absolutely appalling. The sort who knows everything and will tell you so himself. And he’s revolting-looking too – huge, with a round face and piggy eyes and a moustache, of all things.” She paused for dramatic effect. “Honestly, I think he looks like a walrus. Kind of like a younger version of Slughorn.”

We all giggled at the thought – Lily’s description, while short, was undeniably eloquent, and we all had a mental picture of the unknown Vernon. Which was less than attractive, I might add.

Martha grinned broadly. “I’d pay to see that,” she said. “Horsey Petunia and Walrus Vernon. They could start their own zoo!” She then clapped her hand over her mouth, realising she’d insulted Lily’s sister. “Oh, I’m sorry, Lils. I didn’t really mean that, I was just having some fun. Petunia doesn’t really look like a horse.” She gave Lily a hug in a show of contrition, though she did look at Mary and me over her shoulder and mouth, ‘Yes, she does!’ And Charlotte, witnessing the whole thing, nodded significantly in obvious agreement.

To my combined disappointment and relief we didn’t see the boys again until the train had pulled into Hogsmeade station. We ran into them on the platform as we milled around looking for the horseless carriages, and shared a giggle at their faces when they saw us.

“Oh,” said Peter, looking rather disappointed. “You’ve changed into your robes.”

“Funny aboot tha’,” said Mary. “Considering we’re a’ school now an’ we have t’ wear them.”

“Colder here, too,” Charlotte said, struggling to contain a smile. “It being much further north, and night.”

Sirius was also looking disappointed. “I guess,” he said, holding out a hand for Charlotte’s owl as she struggled to hang onto it in the bustle. It had been complaining towards the end of the train journey so she’d let it out of its cage in an attempt to shut it up for a while. “Though maybe it’ll stay hot till the weekend.” He looked at us hopefully.

Martha shot him a look. “And what if it does?”

“Calm down, Padfoot,” came Remus’ measured voice from behind us. “You’ve had all summer to eye off girls, how about you let these ones be for a while.”

I froze involuntarily: I hadn’t even thought of that. I suddenly had all sorts of mental pictures of what he’d been up to over the summer, and to my dismay I was feeling rather jealous of all the unknown girls he’d found attractive and possibly hooked up with. I even started looking surreptitiously at him to see whether I could see any tell-tale signs, such as love bites or even lipstick marks. Stupid, I know, especially considering his robes and hair hid most of the relevant parts, but then again I didn’t always exactly see reason where he was concerned. To take my mind off it I busied myself with letting Cerridwyn out of her cage so she could fly up to the owlery, and putting the empty cage with a nearby pile of trunks which would be collected and transported to the school later.

Sirius for his part looked like he had been about to say something but caught himself in time, settling instead for shrugging as Charlotte’s owl perched on his shoulder, above the heads of younger students, plainly not wanting to make its own way to the owlery just yet.

In the jumble to get into the carriages we found ourselves muddled up a bit with the other students, and as a result no one ended up sitting with who they had thought they would, though I noticed James was already pulling rank to get him and Lily in the same carriage (“Sorry, folks, but the Head Boy and Girl have to arrive together”). However, I lost Mary and Charlotte in the crowd and ended up in a carriage with Martha, Remus and Sirius, who was still carrying Charlotte’s owl, which seemed to have taken a liking to him.

Of course he’d be in my carriage. I couldn’t avoid him even when I was trying to.

“How’s that hand going, Laura?” Sirius asked almost immediately once we sat down, fixing me with a look of concern as he pushed his hair out of his eyes.

“Right as rain, thanks,” I said, somewhat surprised he’d remembered it was even hurt. To demonstrate I moved it around and flexed it a few ways and only winced once. “I’ll be juggling Bludgers again in no time.”

A smile crossed his face briefly but was quickly replaced by the look of concern he’d worn earlier. “You should still get it looked at,” he said. “I’ll take you up to see Madam Pomfrey when we get there. Once I’ve given this back to Charlotte.” He gestured at the bird on his shoulder.

That was the last thing I needed. Time alone with Sirius. Merlin only knew what I might do without supervision, and I really didn’t want to embarrass myself. Or him, for that matter. “That’s okay,” I said. “I don’t think that’ll be necessary.”

He shook his head. “You shouldn’t be wandering around the castle alone after dark. Dumbledore stressed that to James in his letter, to make sure everyone’s extra careful.”

Uh oh. It looked like he’d meant it, he was really going to insist on accompanying me. Fortunately something occurred to me that meant I could avoid the trip to the hospital wing. “It’s fine,” I said. “And Madam Pomfrey will be at the feast anyway, I’ll just go and see her before we get started and she’ll have it fixed like a shot.”

His expression cleared and I breathed an inward sigh of relief. “Right, that should be okay. We’ll save you a seat.” And he looked pointedly at Martha and Remus who hurriedly agreed.

To my relief Martha changed the subject. “So, how was your trunk?” she asked Sirius, a mischievous smile on her face. “Elvira nick any of your underwear?”

_Ah, the benefits of being an ex_. I would never have had the guts to ask him about his underwear, be it in jest or otherwise.

He and Remus both laughed. “Not that I know of,” Sirius said. “I think we caught them just in time.” His eyes were sparkling and I wasn’t sure just how serious he was being.

“Though I did see Elvira stuffing something down the front of her robes,” Remus said, his eyes dancing.

Sirius looked surprised. “You did? What was it?”

“Probably anything with your home address on it,” Remus said. “Or possibly that blow-up doll you carry around. I couldn’t be sure.”

Sirius looked mortified until he realised Remus was joking, which wasn’t until Martha and I had joined in the laughter. Which I admit was probably due as much to the look on his face as it was what Remus had said. I wasn’t sure whether he actually had a blow-up doll and was annoyed with Remus for letting it slip, or Remus had made it up and he was worried we might believe it, but for once I didn’t really care. I mean, if he did, then maybe he’d stay on the market for longer and I might have a chance. (Yeah, right. I know, pie in the sky. But a girl can dream.)

Once we got into the Great Hall I marched straight up to Madam Pomfrey at the staff table to have my hand looked at. I wouldn’t have bothered except I didn’t want Sirius bugging me about it ad infinitum and possibly taking matters into his own hands. Fortunately Madam Pomfrey, excellent at her job, had a quick look at it and fixed it in no time at all, and I was back at the Gryffindor table, ready for whatever the new school year would hold, well before the first-years came in for their Sorting.

 


	31. It's all about James

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A conversation with the boys at the breakfast table about why Laura won’t be playing Quidditch this year. Or doing much else, come to think of it. And then Lily starts getting increasingly frustrated by James’ impeccable behaviour.

The school year started the following day pretty much without incident. We received our timetables from Professor McGonagall (oddly enough, exactly the same as we’d had the previous year) and shuffled around to different classrooms listening to different teachers give us the same spiel about how important NEWTs were and how much we would have to study and improve on last year in order to pass. It was all a rather familiar routine by now and, while the classes were definitely getting harder, it wasn’t any worse than we had expected. We did however have yet another Defence curriculum to work to due to the person teaching it changing yet again – Professor Viridian had for some reason left the post and been replaced by a rather young witch by the name of Perkins.

Early in the second week of term, Mary and I had our breakfast unexpectedly interrupted when James and Sirius, followed closely by Remus and Peter, joined us at the Gryffindor table. I was surprised, especially since Lily was sitting on the other side of us and there were spare seats nearby, but it appeared James for once had something else on his mind.

“Morning, ladies,” he said from his spot next to me, reaching for a pile of plates and doling them out to his friends. “Quidditch trials are on this Friday,” he added, looking at me. “You coming?”

“Why would I do that?” I asked, pouring myself some orange juice.

“Come on,” said Sirius from opposite him, pushing his hair out of his eyes. “I’ve seen how well you throw. You’d be a cinch for the spare Chaser’s spot.”

“She dodges darn well, too,” Mary said, helping herself to more kippers. “Ye shoul’ see her in a snowball fight.”

I glared at her. I had no intention of trying out for the House Quidditch team: I knew I’d be useless and I wasn’t particularly interested in humiliating myself in front of the whole school. Or, more importantly, in front of Sirius.

“Sounds great,” James said with a grin. “You know I’m captain this year? What with Anna graduating and all. We could definitely do with someone with a good arm on the team.”

“Thanks, but no thanks,” I said. “I’m really not the sporting type.”

“You don’t like Quidditch?” James looked shocked.

Mary almost choked on her kippers. “Tha’s no’ what she said.”

“I love Quidditch!” I said, wondering why no one had mentioned to him I’d been to all the games the previous year. And every other year, for that matter. “Didn’t have much choice, with my childhood. My dad’s a mad Quidditch fan. I think he was disappointed he had two girls and no boys, but he took us to games all over when we were kids. Still does, occasionally, when he has time, but not so much lately ’cause he thinks the games might be targeted. We all went to the last World Cup, though. I just can’t actually play.”

There I was again, talking too much because I was nervous. Sirius often had that effect on me these days. Thank goodness he was on the opposite side of the table – it was reassuring having that physical barrier between us to stop me doing anything I may later regret.

James was grinning, having obviously decided to test me on my Quidditch knowledge. “Who’s your team then?” he asked, pouring himself a drink.

“Caerphilly Catapults,” I said. “We are Welsh, after all.”

Sirius was smiling too. “’Dangerous’ Dai Llewellyn. Too bad they’ve been in a bit of a funk since he got eaten.”

Peter laughed from his spot on the other side of James. “Yeah, like twenty years ago!” It was true: since the Catapults had won the European Championship in 1956 – four years before I was even born – they had gone downhill and stayed there.

I smiled grimly. “I can’t help it if my team’s going through a bad – er – generation. At least we’re not as bad as the Cannons.” The Chudley Cannons had changed their motto about five years previously to _Let’s just cross our fingers and hope for the best_. It didn’t seem to have worked yet.

“Why not the Harpies?” asked Peter. “If you’re from Wales, you could have picked either. And they’re in better form.”

I shook my head. “Holyhead’s way up north,” I said, “in Anglesey. I’m from just outside Cardiff. Caerphilly’s only ten miles from where I grew up. And there’s a big difference between south Wales and north Wales.” I recognised the irony of talking about Holyhead as being ‘way up north’ when I was currently in Scotland, but I was sure they knew what I meant.

He nodded. “Okay. I’ve never been much good at Welsh geography.”

“Nor is anyone else, who’s not from there,” I said with a smile. I had noticed that a lot since moving to England – English people as a whole didn’t seem all that interested in the other parts of the British Isles. “Remus will back me up on that, won’t you?”

He smiled and nodded. “Have to say I agree. Trying to get it into this lot’s thick heads has been beyond frustrating. Even Prongs, who only lives just across the Severn.”

James looked a little sheepish and changed the subject, halting my curiosity as to the location of his home (which from that description couldn’t be far from mine). “So why don’t you play?” He never was one to give up. Just ask Lily.

Peter clearly agreed. “Good question. You can throw, you can dodge, what more do you need?”

“Well, yes, but I can’t do either of them very well if I’m on a broomstick,” I said wryly, pouring myself a cup of coffee.

James looked confused. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I lose balance once I take a hand off the broomstick,” I said, taking a sip of my coffee. “Means I’m not much good at anything like, say, catching a Quaffle.”

Peter looked unconcerned. “How about Keeper then? You can keep both hands on the broom for that, and the spot’s open.”

James joined in. “Yeah, you don’t have to worry about catching Quaffles or holding Beater’s bats if you’re Keeper. And Marcus has left so there’s no incumbent.”

I shook my head. “Sorry, but still no. Couldn’t play anyway,” I said. “Dad’s really keen for me to do as well as possible during NEWTs, so he doesn’t want me distracted by anything. Meaning, no extra-curricular stuff. Bea had the same rule.”

James nodded reluctantly. “Right. If you’re that set on not playing, I won’t argue with you. I’ll let you off, just this once.”

“Besides, my broom’s still in pieces in the bottom of my trunk,” I said, realising I was talking too much again. I’d have to have a word to Mary about stopping me when I was doing that. “I haven’t had a chance to reassemble it since we got back to school, and I don’t know that I’d have time before Friday. Not if I’m going to do it properly.”

They all looked dumbstruck, and Mary giggled to herself across the table at their reaction. “I didn’t know you were a broomstick whiz,” Sirius said eventually, looking impressed. “That is to say, not many people can just take their broom apart and put it back together again.”

James nodded. “Even I have trouble with that sometimes,” he said, helping himself to more toast and fried eggs. “It never seems to fly so well afterwards.”

“I imagine there’s a lo’ ye don’ know aboot us,” Mary said with a broad smile. I suspected she was thoroughly enjoying the conversation going on around her, including any discomfort I might have been feeling, and it crossed my mind that I really should talk to her about that sadistic streak. “Laura here’s no’ jus’ a pretty face.”

Well, that was just asking for a response. “Not even a pretty face, you mean,” I said, grinning at her, throwing back the line we always used with each other. “Anyway,” I continued, turning to James before anyone could comment on what I’d said, “you _are_ putting the tail back on before you re-do the flying charm, and not after?”

“Does it make a difference?”

“Of course it does,” I said, a little surprised he of all people didn’t realise that. “If you do the charm first, the broom adjusts to what its features are at that time. You need to reattach the tail first and clip it down and all that, and then re-do your charm so it applies to the whole thing. That should probably sort out any problems you’re having.”

James was looking flabbergasted. “Are you sure you don’t want to join the Quidditch team? Your broom knowledge alone could get you a spot I’d think.”

I laughed. “Not a hope, sorry, James.”

“Adviser, then,” he said. “Come and give us tips.”

“I’ll think about it. But only if it doesn’t interfere with NEWTs.” I grinned. “Can’t go against darling daddy’s rulings!”

“By the way,” Remus said, changing the subject, “we hear you’re dating Caradoc Dearborn. Were you ever planning on telling us?”

“Am I?” I asked, baffled. This was the first I’d heard of it. “That’s weird, you’d think I would have noticed.” I suddenly realised what Remus had said. “And why would I tell you something like that anyway?”

“Because we’re your friends,” James said, raising an eyebrow at Sirius across the table. “But do we take you to mean you’re _not_ seeing Dearborn?”

“Not that I know of,” I said, having some more coffee. “Where’d you hear that one?”

“Not telling,” said Sirius, pretending to lock his lips and throw away the key. “But that makes things easier.” He looked a little relieved, truth be told.

“How so?” I asked, dreading the answer. The boys clearly had something planned, and that could never be a good thing.

James shrugged. “It means we don’t have to threaten to curse him into next week if he mucks you around, after what happened with Aubrey.” He piled a forkful of bacon and eggs into his mouth.

“I don’t see you being so protective of Mary here,” I said.

“But she’s with Ogden,” said Sirius, looking surprised. “He’s fine, nothing wrong with him.”

“No’ any more, we brok’ up,” Mary said. “Ye haven’ heard any rumours aboot my love life?”

James looked like he was thinking about it as he swallowed his mouthful of food. “Uh – no,” he said after a pause. “Just Laura’s. And Dearborn’s. Though if our information’s wrong, we don’t have to challenge her sanity for dating a prefect.”

“You’re a fine one to talk,” I shot back. “Head Boy – and Quidditch captain, I might add – who’s pining after the Head Girl. And you have a problem with _me_ dating an authority figure?”

Sirius, with a mouthful of food, was trying rather unsuccessfully not to laugh, and in the process knocked his fork onto the floor.

“Doesn’t matter anyway,” James said, ignoring my jibe. “If it’s not happening, we don’t need to do anything about it.”

“Well, it’s definitely not happening,” I sad. “While there’s been a lot to take in since term started, I’m sure I would remember if I’d been snogging someone on a regular basis. Especially Caradoc – he’s really not my type.” I winced involuntarily. While Caradoc was a nice enough bloke, his pale hair and eyes, bulbous lips and weak chin all distinctly turned me off. “Besides,” I went on, helping myself to more bacon and fried tomatoes, “I’m not allowed to go out with anyone this year anyway, so it’s a bit of a moot point.”

This was plainly a surprise for them – while the girls in my year knew the story, it was obvious the boys didn’t. James’ fork stopped about two inches from his mouth and sagged in his hand, its bacon and eggs dropping back onto his plate. Sirius, who had ducked beneath the table to retrieve his fork, hit his head on his way back up. Peter accidentally snorted some tea he had raised to his mouth at the time, and even the normally composed Remus looked surprised, though why any of them would have cared anyway was a bit beyond me.

Peter found his voice first. “What do you mean, you’re not allowed to go out with anyone?”

“Same as the Quidditch,” I said with a shrug. “No extra-curricular activities. That includes boyfriends.”

Mary was looking at the boys scornfully. “Ye didn’ know? An’ ye call yerselves her friends!”

“Well,” Remus said, “if no one tells us something, we can’t reasonably be expected to know it. Laura here obviously didn’t think it was worth mentioning.”

“Slipped my mind,” I said as I tried to corner an errant piece of tomato that was evading my fork.

“You’re not going to keep to that, though, are you?” asked James, his eyes flicking to Sirius, who was still rubbing his head where it had hit the table.

“Yeah, how would he find out anyway?” Sirius said. It was a bit hard to hear him as he was concentrating on pouring tomato sauce over his scrambled eggs and didn’t raise his head. “It’s not like he’s got any spies here, and what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

“Well, I’ll cross that bridge if and when I come to it,” I said, having successfully captured my bit of tomato. “Though I don’t anticipate it will be much of an issue anyway.” I stole a glance at Sirius when I said it – it was true, but one word from him and I would have abandoned any idea of following Dad’s rule. Hopefully he didn’t realise that though: I couldn’t stand the humiliation.

This time it was James who dropped his fork and stooped beneath the table to pick it up. I suspected he was trying not to laugh, as his shoulders were shaking so much he knocked my knees as he scrounged around trying to find the wayward utensil. Eventually he resurfaced, face a bit red, glasses askew, and wordlessly reached for more eggs. For the life of me I couldn’t work out what was so funny.

“And, on the bright side,” I went on, opting to ignore this little show, “at least I won’t have to go into Madam Puddifoot’s again.”

Sirius groaned with me. “Hear, hear,” he said with feeling. “Clio dragged me in there at the start of the year. It was appalling!”

“Wasn’t it though,” I said, shuddering. “Chintz and floral and lacy doilies everywhere – it was like going to Grandma’s but without the good cakes, and far more claustrophobic.”

Mary got my attention by pushing her empty plate away from her. “I’m done,” she said, looking at me. “Shall we?”

“Why not,” I said, hastily swallowing the last of my bacon and standing up with her.

“See ye aroond, lads,” she said airily, waving as we made our way out of the Great Hall. The boys waved us off and then followed James as he shuffled down a couple of places to where Lily was.

Mary looked at me once we’d left the hall and were heading towards the Transfiguration classroom. “I though’ I’d better ge’ ye oot o’ there an’ all,” she said with a smile. “Ye were gettin’ a wee bi’ carried away.”

“It took you that long to notice? You could have stopped me when I was rambling on about Quidditch or brooms. Did myself no favours there.”

She laughed. “I’m no’ so sure. James was pretty impressed, he might even encourage it now.”

“Great,” I said glumly as we took a detour to avoid Peeves, who was had piled up some suits of armour into the middle of the first floor corridor and was now sitting on top of them, swinging a cauldron around his head. “We’ve convinced James, now all we need to do is convince Sirius. That should be a breeze. I mean, it’s not like I’ve got any competition or anything.”

“Don’ bea’ yerself up aboot it,” she said. “An’ ye might have half the battle won. Everyone knows tha’ if there’s one person Sirius listens t’, it’s James. Same as Sirius is the only one James will listen t’. So I think ye were jus’ helpin’ yer chances, if anything.”

I looked at her, considering. “You know, Mary, you might just be on to something there.”

She grinned. “An’ if nothing else,” she went on with a wink, “ye’re one up on Elvira an’ the fan club.”

I raised an eyebrow. “How?”

“A’ leas’ he talks t’ ye.”

I nodded, half a smile crossing my face – that much at least I had to concede.

****

That Saturday, not long after I did indeed turn down Caradoc Dearborn’s request at lunch time for a date (the boys’ information clearly being better than I had given them credit for), I settled in to get my part of the dorm the way I liked it. This entailed putting up my Catapults poster, Gryffindor and Welsh rugby banners on the wall, and some photos and books from home on my bedside cabinet. I had also set aside the requisite hour or two to get my broom ready for the school year – as I had told James, there was no chance I would have been able to do that properly before his Quidditch trials were scheduled the previous day.

Once I’d put my broom back together and re-adjusted the charms on it I felt much better. While I was never going to try out for the Quidditch team, it did mean I could take it for a spin whenever things were getting too much for me, which I had heard could happen a lot during one’s NEWT year. Or whenever I’d been seeing too much of Sirius and needed the equivalent of a cold shower, which I had the feeling would soon be getting to be more and more often.

Heading down to the Quidditch pitch for my solitary rides, however, I was often interrupted by James and various other Gryffindor Quidditch players, who had got it into their heads (probably thanks to James) that I was the person to ask for help whenever they had any broom problems. While I didn’t mind helping them out, I preferred it when they asked me once I’d got back from my ride rather than on my way out, and more than once I’m afraid I even snapped at someone who had got me at the wrong time.

James had also decided he wasn’t going to let me forget my promise to teach him to drive. No matter how many times I said we didn’t exactly have a car at our disposal, he refused to give up the idea and insisted that as well as Sirius, who I had also promised (like I could forget), I should also be teaching Remus and Peter. In the end, as a way of shutting him up, I wrote to Mum and got her to send me half a dozen copies of the Highway Code so I could give it to the boys for some background reading. Like my mother I thought it an excellent idea that they have some understanding of the road rules before attempting to get behind the wheel of a car. The ploy worked in as much as they stopped bugging me about teaching them until they had studied the manual – which, in the case of James and Sirius at least, seemed to take approximately fifteen minutes. Oh well. It had seemed like a good idea at the time.

In the end, it turned out to be Lily who finally got James off my back, at least as far as driving lessons were concerned. After we had been back almost a month she was getting increasingly frustrated.

“I never thought I’d say this,” she complained during Charms one day, “but James is too much of a gentleman.”

Charlotte dropped her wand in surprise and some butterflies flew from the tip as it landed. “What did you just say?”

“He’s too much of a gentleman,” Lily said, trying in vain to make the Gryffindor lion on her parchment change shape and replicate. “I’ve been waiting since we got back to school for him to ask me out, or even make some sort of lewd comment that I could respond to, and he hasn’t done it yet. He keeps on being polite and respectful and concentrating on Head Boy duties. I’m starting to lose patience.”

I laughed, forgetting the wand movement I was supposed to be practicing. “You’re right, Lily, we never thought you’d say that either.”

“Why don’ ye ask him oot?” Mary asked. “It’s no’ lik’ he might say no.”

“I don’t know,” Lily said. “I’ve never asked a boy out before. How do you do it?”

“Simple,” said Martha. “You go up to them and ask if they want to go out with you.”

“Ah, but we’re not all as bold as you,” Charlotte said, casting what she probably thought was a furtive glance at Remus.

Lily nodded. “Yes, I don’t know if I could do that.”

“Ladies,” came Professor Flitwick’s voice, “more practicing, less chatting.” He came over to us. “How are your Protean Charms going?”

I looked him in the eye and, muttering the spell he’d taught us, changed my Gryffindor lion to a Ravenclaw eagle. All the other lions on my parchment also obediently changed shape, mimicking the original. Flitwick blinked in surprise.

“My apologies. Carry on, carry on,” he said, and shuffled off to inspect the girls at the Ravenclaw table.

“Good one, Laura,” Martha muttered under her breath. “Now, can you show us how you did that?”

****

As it turned out, Lily did have it in her. That evening after dinner, she walked right over to James in the common room and looked him in the eye. “James, can I have a word please? Outside. Heads’ business.”

James looked surprised but nodded and followed her. After an hour they hadn’t returned, and we were all getting more than a little suspicious.

Suddenly I had an idea and, working up some courage, headed over to the boys in their usual spot by the fire. “Do you know where they’ve gone?” I asked, sitting down on James’ empty armchair.

“No idea,” said Sirius, looking up from what appeared to be a Muggle motorcycle magazine. It seemed Mary had guessed right about whose bed was whose. “She said it was Heads’ business, though.”

“Heads’ business my foot,” I said. “If they’re still talking I’ll eat a Hippogriff. Have you got that map of yours handy?”

Remus looked vaguely surprised, but fished around in his bag and pulled out the enormous bit of parchment. “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good,” he said, spreading it out on the seat next to him and tapping it with his wand. Once the map appeared on the parchment, he scanned it quickly. “They’re in that old classroom just down the hall,” he said. “The one opposite the statue of Lachlan the Lanky.”

“Hmm,” I mused. “I guess we can’t borrow that Cloak of his without asking, can we? Just to take a peek, I mean.”

“You’re not proposing spying on the Head Boy and Girl, are you?” Sirius asked with mock indignation, though he was smiling. “You can’t do that.”

“Of course we can,” Peter said. “He’d do it to us.”

“That’s true,” Remus conceded. “But no, Laura, we can’t borrow his own Cloak to spy on him. That would be beyond the boundaries of honour.”

“I hadn’t thought of it like that,” I said. “You’re right. I guess we’ll just have to sit here and speculate on what they’ve been doing for the past hour then.”

“Peter will do it, won’t you Wormtail?” Sirius said, pushing his hair out of his eyes. “He doesn’t need a Cloak.”

I looked at Peter, surprised and more than a little confused, but he just smiled an almost malevolent smile and nodded. “Okay. I’ll go.” He climbed out of the portrait hole and was back within a minute. “Uh, Laura, what exactly was it that you thought they were up to?”

“If I had to guess, I’d say they were giving their tongues a good workout without saying a word,” I said, leaning back in the armchair and trying not to look at Sirius. I had tensed up again, inwardly thanking Merlin we were sitting on separate chairs and therefore weren’t likely to come into any physical contact.

“Got it in one,” he said, smiling again. Sirius and Remus grinned maniacally and high-fived each other with gusto.

“About bloody time,” said Remus.

“Yeah, hopefully he’ll stop pining now,” added Sirius, who then frowned slightly. “Though he’ll probably go all soppy and revolting and won’t spend any time with us anymore.” He looked at me suddenly with new interest. “How did you know?”

“You forget, I share a dorm with her,” I said, getting up from my chair. “Thanks. I’d better share the news.” And I went back to our favourite table by the window, smiling broadly.

“So?” Mary asked. “Where are they?”

“World’s biggest snog-fest, apparently,” I said. “In an empty classroom down the hall.”

They all got the same maniacal grins that Sirius and Remus had worn. “Brilliant!” said Martha. “So she did get the guts up.” And, abandoning our homework, we spent a good half hour speculating on what would happen with Lily and James from here on in.

Lily didn’t come back until after we had gone up to the dorm to get ready for bed. She looked deliriously happy and more than a little dishevelled, and was obviously hoping we’d gone to sleep already and wouldn’t quiz her: the look that came to her face when she saw me in the bathroom and Charlotte still getting changed into her pyjamas was one of disappointment.

Martha had seen it too. “Sorry, Lils, you were sprung. What happened?”

Lily pouted. “If we were sprung, you shouldn’t need me to tell you.”

“All we know is you and James were snogging each other senseless,” I said, putting my toothbrush away and coming back into the dorm. “What we don’t know is how long that took to happen.”

Lily sighed, sitting down on her bed. “About five seconds, actually,” she said. “I took him to an abandoned classroom, and he looked at me with those eyes and said, ‘All right, Lily?’, and I just kissed him. I couldn’t help myself.”

Mary raised her eyebrows. “Couldn’ help yerself? Tha’ was why ye go’ him oot o’ the common room in the firs’ place, wasn’ it?”

“Yes, all right,” Lily said. “I wasn’t quite sure how to go about it, you know, asking him out, and it just seemed the easiest way. And he didn’t seem to mind.”

“Of course he didn’t,” said Charlotte, who had finished putting her pyjamas on. “Did you actually talk at all?”

“You know, we did,” Lily said, sounding surprised herself. “For ages. In between snogging, of course. He’s a great kisser.” She paused for a bit, a dreamy expression on her face. “I really don’t know why I waited this long. We could have had all summer.” And she lay back on her bed, looking at the canopy above her head.

“I think she’s down for the count, girls,” said Martha. “How about we leave her to her daydreams for a bit and get some sleep? And, in the morning, I’ll organise a plaque for that classroom down the hall to commemorate this momentous occasion – it has taken six years, after all.” She grinned mischievously while Lily made a vague movement to throw her pillow at her, but didn’t follow through.

“I might hold ye t’ that,” smiled Mary, settling into bed herself and turning off the lamp closest to her. “Now goo’ night everyone.” And we all settled down into our beds and pretended not to notice the occasional contented sigh coming from Lily’s direction.


	32. Broomstick maintenance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laura agrees to give the Quidditch team some pointers on broom handling and maintenance, and discovers that James has ordered she be chaperoned to and from the pitch. And another Hogsmeade visit is announced.

We saw very little of Lily and James over the next few days. That is, they made it to class and mealtimes and the like, but were conspicuous by their absence from the common room after supper, and spoke to very few people besides each other. We didn’t really mind, as this sort of thing was par for the course for any new relationship, though we did notice the boys seemed a little at sea t the temporary loss of their friend, apparently unsure what to do when he wasn’t around.

The couple in question, however, were both obviously so deliriously happy that no one even thought of begrudging them anything, and before long Sirius, Remus and Peter seemed to get used to the new state of affairs and went back to wreaking the occasional havoc among themselves. Even the half dozen or so girls who made up the James Potter fan club appeared to accept they had well and truly lost their chance. In fact, the only person who really seemed very put out by the relationship was Severus Snape.

To no one’s surprise, the seating arrangements in Potions changed, in that Lily and Charlotte swapped tables. While something like this would normally have had no impact on the class at all, especially since they were both members of the Slug Club and were therefore treated indulgently by the teacher, it was impossible not to notice Snape was less than thrilled. If looks could kill James would have been dead twenty times before the next class even started and, while he put on a show of ignoring Severus’ repeated attempts to sabotage him, I had a sneaking suspicion he was just storing up each incident in his memory, to exact revenge at a later time. If nothing else I was impressed with the strength of his Shield Charm, which stayed intact no matter how many hexes were hurled at it.

This sort of carry-on, which continued throughout the term, was naturally a rather significant distraction for the rest of the class. This was a bit of an issue as the potions we were supposed to be making would have been difficult enough even if we’d been able to give it our full concentration. In truth I was feeling Lily’s loss rather significantly, and Charlotte was feeling the loss of James and Sirius, as we had both relied on their expertise to get us through the increasingly complicated brews Slughorn was having us make. Leda Minchum and Al Jorkins, the Hufflepuffs on our table, weren’t of nearly the same calibre as Lily and couldn’t provide much by way of assistance, so we struggled through on our own.

“What do we do next?” Charlotte asked one day as we stumbled our way through the instructions for a Blood Replenishing Potion.

“Powdered moonstone, I think,” I said, pulling out an elastic and tying my hair back to get it out of the way before picking up my copy of _Advanced Potion-Making_ once again. “We’ve added the crocodile heart, right? Well, that’s the last of the base ingredients. So we stir it three times anticlockwise and then four times clockwise, and put in the moonstone one teaspoon at a time, stirring six times clockwise in between each spoonful.” I looked at her and grimaced. “This is a nightmare.”

“No arguments from me there,” Charlotte said, a look of concentration on her face as she followed my instructions, before looking intently at her own book. “Oh, we need some nettles, do you want me to get them?” And she took off towards the students’ store cupboard in search of further ingredients, taking a rather wide berth around Lily and James’ table on the off chance she might get hit by a Snape jinx.

Eventually we finished our potions and they even looked pretty much like they were supposed to. Maybe a year of sitting with Lily during this class really had made me better at it. I lined up with everyone else when the class was over to hand over my sample to be marked.

“Thank you, Miss Collins,” Slughorn said rather absently as I gave him my sample and hoisted my bag over my shoulder in readiness to leave the dungeon. Hmm, Collins. Not that far off the mark; Slughorn definitely was improving. At least he had the right number of syllables.

Heading back upstairs Sirius fell into step beside me, his hands deep in his pockets and a look of disapproval on his face. “Did I hear that right? He’s been teaching you for over six years and he can’t even get your name right?”

I laughed. “It’s pretty funny, really, he keeps trying to make me Irish. Collins, Connolly, Carroll, Connor …”

He still looked annoyed, his grey eyes flashing. “But that’s not good enough, he should know who you are by now.” He seemed to be taking the whole thing far more seriously than was warranted – after all, it had been happening for years and had turned into such a game for me that if it stopped now I’d probably be disappointed.

“Not him,” I said, pulling my hair out of its ponytail and stowing the elastic in my pocket. “I’m not in the Slug Club, which means I’m not important enough to worry about. You know he only picks the brightest and the best-connected.” I let out a giggle. “Maybe I should let slip my cousin married Dai Llewellyn’s nephew last summer, that might get me in.”

“Did she? I didn’t know that.”

I shrugged. “That’s probably because I never told anyone. It’s not important.”

He grinned. “Prongs might disagree with you. Anything Quidditch-related, he wants to know.”

“You think?” I asked, trying not to notice how that smile affected me, trying not to tense up too much. Sometimes it felt like a never-ending battle. I took a deep breath, re-composing myself. “Dangerous Dai’s dead, so it’s not like he can get me free tickets or a discount at Quality Quidditch Supplies.”

He laughed that bark-like laugh of his. “You have got the measure of him, haven’t you, Laura? You’re right, that probably is what would interest him the most.”

“In which case,” I said, “there’s not much point in my mentioning it. Which has been my strategy all along, you might notice.” I had realised I couldn’t escape him – it was lunch time so we were both going to the Great Hall, and if I tried to do something else it would have been really obvious I was trying to avoid him.

He had a bit of an unusual look on his face. “You know, there are a lot of kids at this school who would be making sure everyone knew they had a connection to Dai Llewellyn, however tenuous. You really don’t like drawing attention to yourself, do you?”

I thought about it. “I don’t think it’s that, necessarily. I think if I’m going to have people’s attention, it’s better if it’s for something that’s actually about me, not about random relations.”

He was quiet for a bit, apparently thinking. “I can understand that,” he said eventually, frowning slightly. “It’s an extension of what you said to me the other year. Don’t judge someone on the bad stuff their family has done. And don’t take credit for something someone else in your family has done either. Is that right?”

Again he had surprised me by his insight, not to mention his memory, considering when I’d said that to him (in fifth year) he’d barely acknowledged I existed. “That’s exactly right,” I said. We had reached the Great Hall by now and filed in for lunch, me trying my hardest to ignore his proximity, his smell, his hand resting on my back as we made our way to the Gryffindor table. What was the score again? Quivering Wreck 35; Laura 0. Or something like that.

Mary, who didn’t take Potions, was already there and had saved me a seat in between her and Martha. Thanking her inwardly for ensuring I didn’t have to sit next to Sirius, I climbed into the gap. Sirius took a spot on the other side of Mary, and James, Lily, Remus and Charlotte soon filed in and occupied seats across the table with Peter. Mary leaned in close to my ear.

“Whats he bin sayin’? Ye’re drooling.”

I closed my mouth very quickly and mopped it with a napkin. “Nothing much. Could do with a broom ride though.” She shot me a very knowing look and changed the subject.

“We’ve bin up in the common room,” she said more loudly, indicating Martha and Peter. “They’ve announced the nex’ Hogsmeade visit. Las’ weekend in October.”

Lily nodded. “We considered having it not go ahead at all after the Dementors last year, but Dumbledore said he’s done a risk assessment and he thinks it should be safe enough.” She looked at James fondly and he put an arm around her.

I’d forgotten the Head Boy and Girl organised dates for Hogsmeade visits as part of their duties, and part of me was a little surprised they had managed to achieve anything at all since they had got together. Martha, apparently thinking along the same lines, was smiling broadly.

“So you two have actually been doing work? I thought that was just an excuse to hole up together in an empty room for a while!”

Lily blushed a little but James took it in his stride. “Of course it was an excuse. We’re just using up the plans Lily had made at the start of the year to make it look like we’re doing something productive. Good thing she’s so organised, really.”

Sirius grinned. “I thought you said what you were doing _was_ productive. Are you saying you lied, mate?”

“Depends on how you define it, really,” said Remus, who appeared to be resolutely not looking at Charlotte next to him. A smile was dancing around the corners of his mouth. “I’m sure they think it’s very productive. Whether or not Dumbledore would agree is, of course, another matter.” Lily and James both laughed, Lily a little self-consciously, as we all settled in for lunch.

****

Even though Lily was undoubtedly taking up much of his time and certainly most of his thoughts, and there was a noticeable decrease in his pranking we were sure could be dated from the day they got together, James was still somehow managing to do his other duties, including those associated with captaining the Gryffindor Quidditch team. And he hadn’t forgotten I might be induced to talk to his players about broom handling and maintenance and so, rather predictably, kept insisting I attend Quidditch practices. Unfortunately, most of the practice sessions were on days where I had a mountain of homework to finish, or a detention for hexing someone, or some other reason that meant I couldn’t make it. Finally towards the end of October he found a time that suited me, so I agreed to go down and have a chat to anyone who wanted help.

I was rather surprised when, on my way out of the portrait hole, Sirius insisted on coming too. “James’ orders,” he said with a smug grin. “He doesn’t want you wandering around the castle or the grounds alone after dark, which it could well be by the time you’re finished.” He walked downstairs with me, hands in his pockets, moving with an effortless grace I could never hope to emulate no matter how hard I tried. _Great_ , I thought, watching him. _Way to make a girl feel inadequate_.

I scowled at him, an action most probably influenced by my aforementioned feeling of inadequacy. “Anyone would think I was helpless,” I complained. “What does he think’s going to happen to me?”

He shrugged. “Search me.” _Ooh_ , I thought involuntarily, _can I? No, Laura, focus_. I forced my face into a more serious expression as he continued. “Though we’re playing Slytherin in the first game, so he might be worried they’ll have a go at his secret weapon.”

I laughed. “And that is?”

Sirius looked surprised. “You, of course. The go-to girl for all things broom-related. Apparently our Seeker has been having trouble with her broom jerking towards the left when she goes too fast. Which I dare say can be a problem if the Snitch is on her right.”

“Hmmm.” I thought about that, glad to have a distraction from Sirius, who had to be walking closer to me than necessary. What was he going to do, physically shield me if someone tried to attack? “I think she might have a Cleansweep Six. In which case there’s not much we can do about it, they all seem to do that after a few years. But I’ll have a look at it.” I looked up at him suddenly. “’Cause I’m guessing we want to make sure the Slytherin Seeker doesn’t get the Snitch.”

He laughed that bark-like laugh of his. “You’re not wrong. If Reg gets one up on me this early in the year I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“I can just see the _Daily Prophet_ headlines now,” I said with a wry smile. “ _Slytherin triumphant over Gryffindor: Black family feud magnifies._ They’ll be up here before you know it, pestering you for an interview.”

He laughed again. “Yep, definitely front page material. Complete with an in-depth exposé with my dear sweet mother telling them what a disappointment I am. With material like that, she’ll be able to keep going for months.”

“In that case, there will have to be a spinoff book released as well,” I said, getting into the swing of it, “just to cash in on the story’s popularity.” Elvira and the fan club would be lapping it all up, I thought, even if no one else did.

“You’re right,” he said in a serious voice, though I was sure his eyes were sparkling. I didn’t quite trust myself to look into them, though, so I couldn’t be certain. “What do you reckon, _Fantastic Blacks and Where to Find Them_? Though finding a fantastic Black would take some doing, I dare say.”

I laughed despite myself, thinking it was really just a case of knowing where to look. “Or _Tales of Beedle the Black_.”

“That could work,” he said thoughtfully. “And I don’t doubt my dear old mum has some lovely tales to tell. _Tale of the Two Brothers_ , one of whom is unworthy of the name, that type of thing.”

I felt a bit bad for bringing it all up now – he was talking lightly but I was sure there was still some latent discontent in there that his family had abandoned him. And if what he was saying was true, if his mother had constantly been on about what a disappointment he was, then that just made it that much worse. He must have noticed my reticence, because before I realised what was happening he had an arm around my shoulders and was giving me a squeeze.

“Don’t worry about it, Laura, it’s ancient history,” he said. “I’m well used to what they say about me by now.”

“Okay.” I gave a bit of a terse smile, noticing my shoulders had rather predictably tensed from the contact with him. I was also very aware he still had his arm around me, which had to be an oversight on his part, and twisted my torso a bit in an attempt to dislodge his hand. He realised what I was doing and promptly let go, and I felt a combination of disappointment and relief. However, I also still felt bad for talking so blithely about something that was bound to be a little upsetting to him (when did I become so insensitive?) and decided to change the subject. “Anyway,” I went on, “are you sure you should be coming out at all tonight?”

He looked surprised. “Why shouldn’t I?”

“Put it this way,” I said, “I’m not the one who got in trouble with McGonagall this morning for not handing in my Transfiguration homework.”

“Oh, that.” He shrugged, looking completely unconcerned. “She’ll keep.”

“That’s not like you, though. Normally you’d hand up something, even if you thought it was rubbish.”

“Yes, well,” he said, looking a little uncomfortable, “I had something on my mind at the time and couldn’t really concentrate.”

Again, not like him. I was getting more and more curious. “Good or bad?”

He looked even more uncomfortable. “Um … both, I guess.”

“Did you want to talk about it?” I was feeling more sympathetic than accusatory by now; he didn’t usually let things get to him very much as far as I was aware so it was all a little odd.

He hesitated. “No, probably not,” he said eventually, raking his fingers through his hair distractedly. “It’s nothing, just a blip. Don’t worry about it, I’ll deal with it.”

Obviously now was not the time – strange, if he was happy to discuss his family but not whatever this was. Anyway, I let it slide. “Fine. Just don’t do it again, you do enough detentions as it is without being lumped with one for not doing your homework.”

He laughed, all discomfort apparently gone. “Yes, you’re right. If I have to serve a detention I’d much rather it was for something I enjoyed doing.” He changed the subject abruptly. “Hey, what are you doing for Hogsmeade?”

I looked at him, a little taken aback. He had a habit of sudden subject changes like that and it took some getting used to. “Hogsmeade? The girls and I were going to go robes shopping. Why?”

He shrugged, his eyes on the marble staircase we were fast approaching. “Oh, nothing. Just wondered, that’s all.” _Or_ , I thought, _more like you were just making small talk to get away from talking about whatever it was that stopped you from doing your homework_. Sometimes he was just a little too transparent.

Eventually we made it to the Quidditch pitch and I got my own broom out of the broom-shed in case I needed to demonstrate anything. James pounced on me as soon as I reappeared.

“Right, you’re here,” he said. “I thought you might have … forgotten.” He grinned at Sirius who suddenly looked a little discomfited.

I laughed. “How could I possibly forget when you keep bugging me about it?”

“I don’t bug you,” said James, looking hurt. “I just thought you might want to do your bit in helping your team win the Cup this year. Persephone,” he called to the Seeker who was flying in circles (anticlockwise) about twenty feet above us, “can you come here for a bit?”

Persephone Alderton was a very short, slight fourth-year girl who had an uncanny knack for finding and catching small objects, such as Snitches. She looked a little odd next to James, who was at least six foot and rather broad, but she was doubtless used to that by now and wasn’t in the least intimidated. She came to ground level immediately and strolled over, her broom over her shoulder.

I’d been right, it was a Cleansweep Six which had a bad habit of veering off to one side after about five years. There wasn’t much anyone could do about it, but we did remove the Flying Charm and re-cast it, which might confuse the broom into thinking it was a bit newer and stop the veering for a little while at least. If nothing else it was worth a try. The other thing worth trying was putting the Cushioning Charm on both sides of the broom, so if it did start jerking towards one direction and she needed to go in another, she could rotate the broom while still in flight and use the fault to her advantage.

Next in line was Fin Quigley, the sixth-year Beater, whose Shooting Star wasn’t responding to direction changes as well as it should have been. Unfortunately the best thing for this was a complete disassembly of the broom and starting again from scratch, which took a good hour or two when done properly, and therefore having it fixed before practice wasn’t really an option. I did offer to help him do it at another time, which James overheard and promptly included himself in the party for broomstick assembly instructions.

Finally Jasper Stimpson, a third-year who had just been appointed Keeper, came to me. He had a brand new Nimbus Fifteen Hundred, a gift from his parents for making the team, but wasn’t confident on how best to fly it. This however wasn’t really my area and I sent him to James, who had the same broom and was much better qualified to answer those sorts of questions. I could see that young Jasper was rather intimidated by his captain, but if they were going to be on the same team all year then the sooner he got over that the better.

Throughout the whole process Sirius had been sitting on the ground propped up against the broom-shed, watching the proceedings and plainly waiting for me to finish. It hadn’t really clicked until then that I needed escorting back to the common room as well, but I couldn’t exactly tell him to take off before I lost all self-control. (Maybe, I considered, if I just did that it would make life easier as he’d be bound to avoid me afterwards, but I still couldn’t face the rejection. Yes, I was a coward. And I didn’t want to lose him as a friend.)

I looked at him once Jasper had gone to James, my broom in my hand. “Sirius, do you mind waiting a bit longer? I feel like taking a spin.”

He looked surprised but nodded. “Sure. Whatever you like.”

A fast, furious trip around the pitch was exactly what I needed, I had decided. I was sure to be much better behaved around Sirius if I got any excess tension and frustration out of my system before he took me back to the castle. I got onto my broom and took off firmly, taking myself rather higher and wider than the practicing players so I wouldn’t be in the way, and doing several laps of the pitch while I let off a bit of steam. My Nimbus One Thousand and One, while not as fast or durable as James’ and Jasper’s Fifteen Hundreds, was still a good broom and could get up to a hundred miles an hour in good conditions. After several laps (or maybe a few dozen), I felt calm enough to head towards the ground and was putting my broom away in the shed when I heard James’ voice behind me.

“Oi, Laura,” he said, having also obviously just landed, “I thought you said you couldn’t fly.”

“I can fly,” I said, turning to face him. “I just have to keep both hands on the broom to be able to do it. Which means I’m crap at Quidditch.”

His brow furrowed. “Sounds like an excuse to me. If you didn’t want to play, why didn’t you just say so?”

“I did say so, if you recall. And I also said I can’t throw or catch very well if I’m on a broom. Because I can only fly two-handed.”

James still didn’t look convinced but fortunately Sirius joined the conversation on my side. “Lay off her, Prongs. She did what you asked her to.”

James just raised his eyebrows at Sirius and shook his head. “That’d be right, gang up on me,” he grumbled. “Though the team’s looking all right, I guess I shouldn’t complain.”

I smiled again. “Good. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we’d best be getting back, I’ve got an essay to finish. And you’d better get back to your practice before your team start wondering where their captain is.”

The flight had worked – I was incredibly calm as Sirius walked me back to Gryffindor Tower, even managing to control myself when he smiled at me. I was getting much better at this self-discipline thing, I decided. Quivering Wreck 47 (or something); Laura 1 – this had to count as a victory of sorts. However, once we got back to the common room I was very pleased to be able to make my excuses and head directly for the dorm, claiming the need for a shower so I didn’t need to spend any more time in his company. And even though it was still early, I stayed in the dorm for the rest of the evening, lying on my bed to finish my Herbology essay rather than heading back downstairs and potentially facing him again.

****

Of course, even if I had wanted to avoid Sirius – actually wanted to, rather than making vague noises at Mary that suggested it might be a good idea – it would have proved more difficult than I’d anticipated, as no matter what I did he always seemed to be somewhere nearby. “This is getting ridiculous,” I said to Mary at the end of the week as we got ready for bed, having snuck up to the dorm before the other girls. “If he was actively trying to torture me he couldn’t do a better job. It’s almost like he’s making a point of hanging around or something.”

Mary groaned sympathetically, though I was sure she was sick to death of my grumbling about Sirius. If I was honest with myself, I recognised that if I’d been on the receiving end, I would have been too. But I needed to talk to someone about it and, as my best friend, she drew the short straw. “Is it really tha’ bad, though?” she asked after a pause.

“Well, look at this week,” I said, counting off the days on my fingers. “Monday – walked me to lunch after Potions, and then he was sitting just behind us in Charms and kept talking to us when we were practicing the Charm. Tuesday – worked on the next plant during Herbology, and helped me out during Transfiguration when I couldn’t get the spell right. Plus walked me down to Quidditch practice and back again, though that was on James’ orders so maybe I shouldn’t count it. Wednesday – was waiting after Ancient Runes because he had to tell Remus something, so walked with us to the library. Thursday – asked for advice during Herbology, where he was on the next plant, again. And today, sat just behind us during Defence and kept interrupting our conversation, and kept offering hints when Professor Perkins asked us to duel. So even if I try to avoid him, I can’t.”

Mary was nodding. “Ye’re right. It does seem beyond the norm. Bu’ then again, tha’ does ten’ t’ happen when ye’re friends wi’ someone.”

“I know,” I said miserably. “But does he have to be so sodding _nice_ about everything? It was so much easier when I thought he was arrogant.”

“O’ course it was,” Mary said. “When ye though’ he was arrogan’ ye didn’ lik’ him at all. So there wasn’ a problem.”

“Yeah, all right,” I said. “But what do I do about it?”

“Jus’ enjoy it. After this year ye may never see him again, so ye might as well mak’ the mos’ o’ it now.”

I was saved from answering by Lily, Martha and Charlotte opening the door, clearly ready to go to bed themselves. “You ran away,” Lily said, an accusing look on her face. “I wanted to ask for help with that Herbology paper.”

I felt ashamed. “Sorry,” I said. “I thought you were done – and honestly, I’m that tired I was about to fall asleep at the table.” It wasn’t wholly a lie – I _was_ tired – but the chat with Mary had been a higher priority than sleep.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Lily said with a grin. “I was only teasing. Honestly, though, what you don’ t know about Herbology isn’t worth knowing.”

I smiled as I pulled my pyjamas off my bed to put on. Lily could turn anything into a compliment.

“Maybe that’s it,” Martha said suddenly. “Herbology.”

“Huh?” Mary looked up, confused.

“It’s because you’re so good at Herbology,” Martha said. “That’s what’s got Dione in a stink.”

I stared at her, my pyjama bottoms left one leg on and one leg off. “Dione? What about Dione?”

“You’re the new target,” she said with a shrug. “I heard today that you’re part Banshee, so we’d better not make you scream.”

I was gobsmacked. “She’s targeting _me_? What on earth for?”

Charlotte looked over from her side of the room, where she was pulling clean pyjamas out of her trunk. “I heard that one too,” she said, “just after lunch. I wondered if it was a Turpin Tale.”

“Has t’ be,” said Mary. “But, Herbology? Dione’s never bin interested in tha’ before.”

I thought about that. “Well, she does do it, so she can’t hate it that much.”

Lily gave a bit of a giggle. “I must say it’s nice that it’s not about me for a change. Not that I want you to go through it, Laura, but I don’t mind having her off my back for a while.”

“Must be because you’re with James now,” Martha said, scrunching up her nose a bit as she always did when she was thinking hard. “She knows nothing’s going to break you two up now you’ve finally got your acts together, so she’s picking on someone else.”

Charlotte grinned. “And now you must clearly enough of a threat,” she said, looking at me. “Looks like you really have got rid of that ‘Beatrice’s sister’ tag once and for all.”

Mary giggled. “Either tha’ or Dione’s gone through everyone else in the school an’ it’s noo your turn,” she said. “I’ll be nex’.”

Lily was shaking her head and waggled a finger at us. “You two can be ridiculous. You’re both worth three of Dione, so of course she’d be threatened by you.” She smiled broadly. “I’m just surprised it’s taken her this long.”


	33. Pubs, pranks and parties

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first Hogsmeade visit of the new school year only succeeds in making Laura more uncomfortable than ever, which can make life difficult when Sirius’ birthday is approaching. And then she walks in on something most unwelcome …

The first Hogsmeade visit took place on the last weekend in October. As I had told Sirius, the girls as a group had decided that as we were all single (aside from Lily), we would go together and have a lovely girls’ day out, trying on dresses in Gladrags and even going to Zonko’s and Dervish & Bange’s, which were rumoured to have stocks of things like love potions if you knew where to look or who to ask.

Hogsmeade itself was getting more and more depressing, just like Diagon Alley and anywhere else only wizards went. Heavy with memories of the Dementor attack less than six months earlier, we stayed together in a group and had our wands within easy reach at all times, keeping a safe distance from anyone who looked like they might possibly be Death Eaters out for a bit of arbitrary intimidation of the locals. (Not that the Death Eaters had been reported as being in Hogsmeade – if they had, then I doubted Dumbledore would have allowed the visit to go ahead. Then again, they might have decided that was a good day to start, and we weren’t in the mood for taking any chances.)

We also spent a lot of time trying to avoid the various amulet sellers and other stall-holders that had also increased since last year, though sometimes the temptation to hex them got to be too much, and more than one ended up with tusks, or wheels where their feet used to be. Generally, the more they hassled us to buy their products, the more likely they were to be hexed by the end of the day.

On our way to Gladrags we were almost bowled over by a rather thin and unkempt-looking wizard with ginger hair who had clearly just been physically ejected from the Hog’s Head, the other pub in the village which had a somewhat shady reputation, with what appeared to be considerable force and a Banishing Charm to boot. At least that was if the landlord’s angry shouts were anything to go by. While there wasn’t much to see once the subject of the disturbance had wandered with a bandy-legged gait down the high street and out of sight, the event itself was more than a little thought-provoking.

“Wonder what that was about,” Martha said. “Must have been pretty bad, whatever it was.” We (and most of Hogwarts) had been under the impression there was nothing under the sun that would force someone to be kicked out of the Hog’s Head.

“Maybe he was casting Unforgivables,” Charlotte suggested, casting a nervous glance in the direction the man was last seen.

“Didn’ look lik’ much o’ a Death Eater, though,” Mary said. “An’ I can’ imagine someone bein’ kicked oot fer cursin’ Death Eaters, either.”

“Good point,” I said. “If nothing else he didn’t really look like he’d be capable of casting anything as strong as an Unforgivable.”

Coming up with ideas and theories as to what the ginger-haired wizard could possibly have done to deserve such a punishment kept us occupied for a good half hour, extending even when we ducked past a few more stall-holders to get into Gladrags to see what their latest range of beautifying robes could do for someone like me. Overall, however, even Gladrags was rather unsatisfying in general and it was in a more sombre mood than we had hoped that we converged on the Three Broomsticks at about quarter to one for lunch.

The difference between the inside of the pub and the pallid atmosphere outside couldn’t have been more palpable. The place was bustling with light, music and chatter and we soon realised we would have trouble finding a table, a problem none of us had ever faced before. Clearly, the rest of the pub’s clientele felt the same about the mood outdoors as we did and had decided to stay inside for the long haul.

Fortunately or unfortunately, depending on your view of it, Remus soon spotted us and called us over to share the table he was at with Sirius and Peter. Four extra chairs were found so quickly I wondered if they had been Summoned and we all squeezed up, seven around a table better suited for four.

“Well,” said Mary, looking around after we’d all sat down, “this is cosy.”

Sirius shrugged. “Better you here than the alternative.”

Martha raised her eyebrows at him. “Which was?”

Remus answered by jerking a thumb towards the near wall, where Elvira and Carol were scowling at us. “They were looking like they wanted to join us, so you lot arriving was perfect timing.”

Peter was staring at Elvira, having not even acknowledged us yet. “Padfoot, is she wearing your jumper?”

Sirius nodded, looking rather annoyed. “I’d wondered where it went. Seems she did nick something on the train that day after all.”

“You’re kidding,” said Charlotte, looking incredulous. “She actually took your stuff?”

“Looks like it,” he said, shaking his head. “I quite liked that one, too. Not that I want it back now, though. Merlin only knows what she’s done to it.”

The jumper, which was black with a V-neck and silver thread all through it, was overly large on her, and didn’t really suit her colouring.  I understood why she was wearing it, though – it was the perfect conversation starter.

“Are you sure you don’t want us to leave and let them sit down?” Martha asked, a mischievous smile on her face. “There’d be more room, at least.”

“That’s true,” said Sirius, who as the tallest and broadest was probably the most cramped by the arrangements. “Anyone know how to do an Undetectable Extension Charm?”

Peter looked surprised. “Don’t you?”

He shook his head. “Nah, I keep forgetting to practice that one. Too much else going on.”

Remus smiled and caught my eye, almost as though I would know what that was about. “Guess we’ll just have to squeeze up then.”

Sirius nodded. “Not to worry. Though I think I’ll grab some drinks. Butterbeers all round, or would you prefer something stronger?”

We placed our orders and he took off towards the bar, where over my shoulder I watched him flirt unashamedly with Madam Rosmerta, the curvy landlady, as he ordered the drinks. When they were poured, however, he apparently realised the flaw in the plan.

“Oi, who wants to help me carry them?” he called over his shoulder, his voice just discernible over the din.

Mary looked at me and winked almost imperceptibly. “Laura, ye’re the closest,” she said, though it wasn’t strictly true – Peter next to me was probably closer. I took the hint, though.

“Okay, I’ll go,” I said with fake reluctance, not sure if spending time in close proximity to him was necessarily a good thing. It was, however, a bit of self-indulgence and he couldn’t possibly detect any ulterior motives as I was, as Mary had said, one of the closest.

He looked almost pleased when I got up and pushed my way through the crowd to the bar. “Here you go, Laura, can you take those?” he asked, indicating three frothing mugs of butterbeer on the bar. Next to them were four glasses of Firewhisky on the rocks. “I can deal with these so we should be right.”

Obviously a Levitation Charm would on the surface have been an easier option, but if you’ve ever tried to control something via a Levitation Charm when you’re in the middle of a crowd you’d know it’s generally not a good idea. Especially when it’s something that can spill without too much assistance. Fortunately Sirius was tall enough to part the waters for me, so to speak, and we made it back to the table with all drinks intact, even taking into account the wide berth we took to avoid Elvira. When we tried to pay him for the drinks, though, he insisted on footing the bill, saying almost ridiculously that if he couldn’t buy drinks for some friends then he had no business having friends in the first place, and I had the feeling this was part of the strict code of honour the boys seemed to share.

We all ended up staying in the Three Broomsticks for a good couple of hours afterwards, both enjoying the company and atmosphere and not really wanting to face the stall-holders outside, even if they did have antlers. Eventually, as different people got up to do different things (order lunch, visit the toilets, get another round of drinks), and people shifted to talk to someone else, we all ended up in completely different seats to those we had started in, and I was thrilled to find myself next to Sirius again for much of the afternoon. Which, I hasten to add, was through no design of my own, just the luck of the draw, but it certainly beat my original spot next to Peter. Charlotte was probably just as pleased with the arrangements, which put her at Remus’ side for a similar length of time.

Halfway through the afternoon we lost Martha, who disappeared on her way to the bar – and by this I mean a completely innocuous disappearance rather than anything even vaguely sinister. The only thing was that she had been going to get our drinks order so we were starting to get a little miffed at her non-return.

“I did see Davey Gudgeon stop her on the way,” Charlotte said as we looked through the crowds for her. “Maybe she’s gone over to where the Hufflepuffs are.”

Peter suddenly sniggered, and Remus and Sirius turned to him sharply. “Something you’re not telling us, Wormtail?”

“Not really,” Peter said. “But I’ve found Martha and I don’t think she’s with the Hufflepuffs. Or, not with more than one of the Hufflepuffs.”

We followed his gaze to a spot by the far wall, slightly obscured by a large pot plant, where Martha and Davey were cloistered up together having one heck of a snog. _Ah well, good luck to them_ , I thought. Davey was a nice enough boy, even if his sister (who’d been in Bea’s year) had to have been one of the ditsiest girls I had ever come across. But then again, I couldn’t exactly judge someone on what their sister was like, could I?

“Well, that would explain it,” Remus said with a grin. “Though it looks like we’re going to have to get our own drinks. What did you want again?”

As we all gave our orders again and fished around for some gold to pay for it, I noticed Peter was still watching Martha and Davey by the back wall, as though it was the most interesting thing he’d ever seen. Maybe he was something of a voyeur, I thought, reasoning it might be his only option considering most of the girls in our year group wouldn’t have touched him with a ten foot pole. Remus, coming back to the table with the drinks, caught my eye and just grinned, his eyes flicking towards Peter. Right, I thought, that pretty much confirmed it – this was his usual behaviour.

Martha’s departure meant there was a bit more room at our table which was both a curse and a blessing, as while it gave us some breathing space it meant I had no excuse to rub my arms and legs up against Sirius any more. It had been nice, being able to pretend for a bit we actually were a couple, so I did feel a little disappointed when it had to end.

To my horror this coincided with me starting to feel more self-conscious from his proximity, though why this hadn’t happened before was slightly beyond me. Maybe the claustrophobic conditions had made me immune or something. Anyway, before long the requisite tension in my shoulders began and I started clamming up, only speaking when spoken to and then using monosyllabic responses. Why did I let myself get so intimidated by him? He was only human, flesh and blood and two arms and two legs like the rest of us, and he was supposed to be my friend, so there was no logical reason why I should have been reacting that way. However, he was also as close to my dream man as I was ever going to meet, and seeing him every day, usually for hours on end, definitely didn’t help me stop thinking about him.

I’m afraid I wasn’t the best company for the rest of the afternoon, only coming out of my stupor when the six of us started heading back towards the castle at about half three, and that was due to a sharp nudge in the ribs from Mary. “Ye okay?” she whispered to me as we left the Hogsmeade high street. “Ye’ve no’ bin yerself.”

“I know,” I said, still in a whisper as the cause of my agitation wasn’t far away, walking just ahead with Remus and Peter. “All of a sudden I got all intimidated and I couldn’t shake it off.” This had to be a try for Quivering Wreck at the very least, and probably a conversion as well. How about, Quivering Wreck 72; Laura 1. That was probably fairly close to the mark. I really had to work on this.

“Ye’re gettin’ worse,” she said, her tone both warning and sympathetic. “Do ye want me t’ line up a snog fer ye t’ try t’ ge’ him oot o’ yer system?”

I thought about it, but the very idea of kissing someone who wasn’t Sirius just left me cold. Merlin’s beard, I did have it badly. _Come on, Laura, snap out of it_ , _you’re not doing yourself any favours here_. I looked at Mary. “We could try,” I said, “but I’m not convinced it would work.”

She gave me a comforting hug as we made our way through the school gates. “I’ll say one thing, Laura, yer pa’s rule aboot no’ seein’ anyone this year is plain daft. No relationship coul’ ge’ ye more distracted or preoccupied than no’ bein’ wi’ him is.”

I gripped her arm fiercely. “For goodness sake keep your voice down,” I hissed, having noticed Remus in front of us pause ever so slightly and turn his head at her remark. “Or at least _Muffliato_ people first.” Damn. Hopefully he wouldn’t work out what she was on about, though I wasn’t convinced he wouldn’t: Remus could be pretty sharp. And hopefully no one else – specifically, Sirius – heard it either.

Mary just looked at me. “An’ ye’re miserable an’ all, too,” she went on as if I’d never interrupted her. “I hate seein’ ye lik’ this.”

I flashed her a quick smile. “I’ll be okay. I promise.”

She frowned slightly. "Sometimes, Laura, I'm no’ so sure."

****

The following week was a frenzy of activity, including the annual Hallowe’en feast and the announcement of the biennial Yule Ball, which was to take place on the Saturday a week before Christmas. I wasn’t sure if I was looking forward to the ball this year or not – the events of the last one kept flashing through my mind, and I certainly didn’t relish the idea of having to watch Sirius getting cosy with someone else all night. Having said that, however, it was bound to be a good night if I could just get over my hang-ups, and was an excuse to let our hair down a bit before the holidays.

The ball set off the same sort of enthusiasm in our dorm as it had done two years previously, with hours of discussion about whether magical adjustments of dress robes were necessary, how to accessorise, and, in the case of Charlotte, Mary and me, who to go with. Naturally, Lily would be attending with James, who was going around looking like Christmas had come early in his anticipation, and Martha would be going with Davey, who she had continued seeing since the Hogsmeade visit.

There were some harsh words said in Lily and James’ direction, however, due to the timing of the announcement – there were several students who were dirty with them for not saying anything before the Hogsmeade weekend so they could have done some shopping.

“They’ll live,” Lily shrugged after a fifth-year accosted her in the Great Hall after lunch. “It’s not like they didn’t know it was coming.”

James put a protective arm around her. “And if they hassle you any more they’ll have me to deal with.” Lily, while seeming a little embarrassed, looked up at him affectionately.

“Anyway,” she said, “if we get ourselves organised we might be able to swing another Hogsmeade visit before Christmas.”

Martha giggled. “Does that mean, if you can keep your hands off each other for long enough to actually do something?”

Lily blushed but James just shrugged it off. “Ah, Martha, you’re just jealous. Or did you need some new dress robes, too?”

Martha just grinned and shook her head. Like the rest of us, she had taken some time over the summer to find some nice dress robes for the ball, and was therefore just making the most of the opportunity to stir them up a bit.

In fact even I – someone with very limited interest in clothes, even with the influence of people like Lily, Martha and Charlotte – had brought some decent dress robes from home in preparation for the ball. I took some pride in my success in overruling Dad’s idea that I just wear my bridesmaid’s dress from Gwendolyn’s wedding or some of Bea’s old robes: this was my final year and I was determined to look my best.

However, the palaver over the Yule Ball was gradually overtaken by the ever increasing mountain of homework we were being given. Four or five three-foot essays a week were becoming commonplace, as well as other things like extra rune translations and practicing different Charms and Transfiguration spells. It was soon the norm for the seventh-years to be up till past midnight trying to get everything finished, and even James and Sirius had been spotted more than once going over their notes when writing their assignments, something never before seen in over six years of school. For those of us not gifted with brilliant minds it became a never-ending grind, and we looked forward to the weekends when not only did we have a bit of spare time, but we could actually spend some of it outside before winter decided to set in in earnest.

There were also the occasional pranks and other jokes initiated by the boys that served as ways to take our minds off study, as was exemplified one Friday. Having been in classes at opposite ends of the castle in the period just before lunch, the girls (minus Lily, of course, who spent most of her time with James these days) and I congregated in the Entrance Hall before all going into the Great Hall as a group, only to see Charon Avery shuffling past with difficulty, having clearly been hit with what looked like a Sponge-Knees Curse. However, we’d not had time to do more than raise our eyebrows and look quizzically at each other before we noticed Sirius leaning lazily on the wall behind the marble staircase, throwing his wand in the air and catching it with a satisfied smirk on his face. Peter, not far away, was looking at him with what could almost be described as reverence, though Remus looked more annoyed than anything.

“What do you think he did this time?” Martha asked.

I shrugged. “Turn up at the wrong place at the wrong time?”

“Prob’ly,” Mary said. “Le’s face it, he’s a Death Eater wannabe so I wouldn’ be surprised if they jus’ use him fer practice.”

“I don’t know, though,” Charlotte said as we settled ourselves at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall. “I know Sirius has taken over official pranking duties now James isn’t doing it, but does anyone else get the feeling his heart’s not really in it?”

I thought about that, casting a look down the table at the boys’ arrival as the table started heaving under the weight of the lunchtime feast. “You know, Charlotte, I think you might have something there. They’re not nearly as elaborate as they used to be, are they?”

“Or as often,” Martha said. “Aside from Avery just then, and Snivellus honking like a goose after Charms on Monday, I don’t think I can name anything they’ve done all week.”

“Was tha’ even them, though?” asked Mary, a broad grin on her face. “Snivellus, I mean. I though’ Lily might have done tha’ one.”

“Yes, good point,” Martha said with a giggle. “But you know what I mean.”

“It’s something I’ve noticed,” Charlotte said. “Because those pranks used to annoy the hell out of me, especially the really big ones. Yes they were funny, but half the time all they did was distract me and I was having enough trouble keeping up with schoolwork as it was. But since James and Lily got together, it’s really dropped – both the standard and the frequency. It’s almost like Sirius’ mind is on something else.”

“You mean something other than running amok or hexing Snivellus?” Martha asked. “What, isn’t he well?”

Charlotte shrugged. “No idea. Though I will say Remus seems to have had the same reaction I have,” she went on with a grin.

Suppressing a smile – of course Charlotte would notice something like that – I looked at Remus. She did have a point: while Peter generally seemed disappointed in the lack of practical jokes, Remus was just as obviously relieved by it, quite possibly, like the rest of us, needing to spend as much time on homework and the like as possible.

“Well, I can’ say I miss it,” Mary said. “Ye’re right, Charlotte, it’s much better t’ be able t’ concentrate on schoolwork an’ all.”

“Hear hear,” I said with feeling. After all, Sirius distracted me enough just by being there – the last thing I needed was to have my attention diverted even more by any pranks or other shenanigans he might have been getting up to. At least, that was if I wanted to have any chance whatsoever of passing my NEWTs.

****

Speaking of distractions and Sirius (because, let’s face it, the two always seemed to be connected for me these days), another one came at the beginning of November in the form of his eighteenth birthday, which as always was marked by a party in the Gryffindor common room. For the first time Mary and I were personally invited, as opposed to invited by default by being in Gryffindor, and I wasn’t sure if it was a curse or a blessing. It was nice to be in the inner circle, so to speak, but the chances of me becoming a nervous wreck during the party were increasing by the hour.

On the night in question James offered to take up the bartending duties and let Sirius be host, as it was his birthday, but it seemed he preferred being responsible for the drinks to any other role. And, as he said, it did guarantee he would be able to talk to everyone. As the night progressed I suspected it also meant he could get as drunk as he wanted, as the Firewhisky certainly seemed to be flowing faster than usual.

By midnight he was very definitely under the influence and had taken to spouting outlandish theories and saying ridiculous things, almost rivalling Hambledon Quince in their absurdity. Lily, away from James for maybe half an hour, had remarked to us that she thought it was about getting some Dutch courage, but there didn’t seem to be anything he needed courage for aside from singing along to the latest Hobgoblins record at the top of his lungs, looking even more than usual like their singer, Stubby Boardman, in the process. (And yes, even that drunken singing was in tune. Sometimes he just made me sick.)

“Laura! How about a birthday kiss?” he slurred, standing in my way as I went to get myself another butterbeer sometime around one. “Just the one, I promise I won’t try anything.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I said with a forced smile as I found my way back to the fireside. While I would have died for a proper kiss from him, this definitely wasn’t the time to indulge my little fantasies.

Mary grinned at me as I sat down. “What, ye’re no’ going t’ tak’ the opportunity? Ye may no’ ge’ a better chance.”

“If he doesn’t throw up on me in the process,” I said, trying to ignore the loud display of disappointment Sirius was engaging in by the bar. “I don’t think he’s exactly in a fit state to be asking for anything like that. Look at him, he can barely even stand up!”

Remus had apparently overheard the last part of what I’d said. “Come on, Laura, give him a chance,” he said. “It is his birthday, after all.”

I shot him a look. “Remus, you’re supposed to be one of his best friends, you should be the one doing damage control. Okay, James is out of business thanks to Lily, but you can still step in. Stop him doing that sort of crap.”

“What sort of crap?” He seemed genuinely confused.

“Stuff he’s going to regret doing in the morning once he’s sobered up,” I said. “If he’s propositioning the likes of me he definitely needs your help.”

Remus looked at me seriously. “With all due respect, I’ve known him for longer than you have and I think I have a better idea of what he’s going to regret in the morning than you do,” he said, and his voice was measured but his eyes were flashing. “Believe me, if I think he’s going too far then I definitely will step in.”

I shrugged. “Fine. It’s your funeral. Or, if he keeps drinking like that, it’s his.” Despite my flippant manner I was in fact a little worried about Sirius, but the boys had apparently seen this sort of behaviour a tidy few times before and weren’t fussed about it in the least.

“Relax,” he said, appearing to calm down a little. At least, his eyes weren’t flashing anymore, and he had probably guessed I was in fact rather concerned about his friend. “Padfoot can look after himself. And if you’re still not convinced, Prongs has gone over there now to prop him up a bit. Even if we can’t lay our hands on any Sobering Solution, he’ll have a headache in the morning but otherwise he’ll be fine.” He smiled suddenly. “And with no regrets, at least not the sort you’re thinking of.” And he got up and went over to the bar where Sirius was now drinking straight from a bottle of Firewhisky, his arm around James’ shoulders as they relived some prank or other.

****

Maybe I should have taken my opportunity at his birthday party. At least then I would have had some experience of being held by him and kissed by him, even if it would have just been a drunken peck. It would have been better than what I currently had, which was – nothing.

These thoughts consumed me in the following days. Was it stupid to say no, even in a situation like that? Should I have made the most of what would most probably have been the only opportunity I would ever get? Would a memory of what would in all likelihood in his view have been substandard (I refer here to his state at the time, rather than any comment on my own abilities or lack thereof) have been better than what my imagination could produce?

I spent half my time kicking myself for saying no, and the other half congratulating myself on escaping something which could well have been disappointing, especially considering his condition at the time and how much I had built it up in my mind. I was doubly pleased with myself when I considered how he might have reacted to me the following day once he’d sobered up a bit: I couldn’t abide the thought of him avoiding me because he was embarrassed by it. I was just thinking about the implications of this – and shuddering – as I wandered towards the library after Ancient Runes that Wednesday, lost in my own thoughts and paying little attention to my surroundings.

Unfortunately, my blissful contemplative state wasn’t to last. As I rounded a corner on the second floor I almost walked right into the subject of these musings, who seemed to be entwined with a girl I didn’t know.

I stopped dead. While they weren’t in the middle of a snog, it did look like they had recently finished one, and I could feel the colour draining from my face. I’d thought I was getting better with this whole Sirius thing, I could almost control myself when I was around him (usually), I’d even found myself another point that week against Quivering Wreck, and then something like this had to happen. I shouldn’t have been surprised, really; he’d not had a girlfriend since Clio back at the start of the year and it was now November, but it still tore through me. I had been hoping against hope I might have had a chance with him. Unfortunately, though, the reality was that Hogwarts was full of girls far prettier than I was, and this girl must have caught his eye in one way or another. In any case, it was a reality I really wasn’t sure I would be able to face.

He had another girlfriend. And it wasn’t me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those unfamiliar with rugby and confused by the scoring in the Quivering Wreck count, a try is worth five points, and a conversion (goal kick after a try) an extra two, making it a seven point play in total. It's kind of like a touchdown in American football, and the point after touchdown. Cheers!


	34. Facing reality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A heartbroken Laura picks a fight with a Death Eater wannabe, to try to get her mind off things.

Frozen to the spot, I looked at the girl wrapped around Sirius. She was probably a sixth-year, I thought, looking at her, and she wore Hufflepuff robes. (And at least they were still on, a part of me said with more than a little relief. I hadn’t interrupted anything too serious.)

Sirius, for his part, seemed to be trying to distance himself from whoever she was and looked almost anxious as his eyes went from her to me.

“It’s not what it looked like,” he said, wriggling around uncomfortably as the Hufflepuff girl adjusted her hold on him.

“Of course it was,” she cooed, looking up at him adoringly. “Why don’t you want to admit that we’re together now?”

He wrenched himself away from her. “Because we’re not!” he snapped, his face rather red as he looked back at me. “Honestly, Laura, there’s nothing going on here.”

I just stood there, unable to say anything, though that didn’t really surprise me all that much. I had just walked into my worst nightmare and I was expected to be able to talk? That didn’t happen. Not in my world, anyway. I was discovering just how much of my emotional wellbeing was tied up in the idea of him being available, and by the look of things it was way too much.

(Speaking of worst nightmares, part of me wondered idly if this was what my Boggart would be now. Sirius with another girl. I had a very nasty suspicion it would.)

The Hufflepuff girl was still cooing at him and trying to run her fingers through his hair while he pulled away from her. I wasn’t sure why he was so worked up – she was quite pretty and they hadn’t been doing anything that would cause embarrassment if witnessed – but then again my brain had frozen and I wasn’t thinking clearly at all. Finally it switched into gear and my defensive side took over.

“What does it matter who you’re snogging, Sirius?” I asked, hoping he didn’t notice the tears that were starting to appear in the corners of my eyes. “Do what you like. I really don’t care.”

It killed me to lie like that but what else could I do? Collapse into tears on the floor because he felt up another girl? That would be ridiculous, not to mention embarrassing. Instead I turned on my heel and walked back the way I’d come, heading towards Gryffindor Tower. I could hear him saying something in the background and was vaguely aware of the racket caused by what sounded like a falling suit of armour behind me, but there was no way known I would have been able to stay to hear him out: that collapsing on the floor thing hadn’t happened yet, but if I hung around it could well have. And I needed to get into my dormitory – the library could _very_ definitely wait – and hurl things at the wall before anyone else found out.

Quivering Wreck had just caught the Snitch.

****

A flood of tears and several broken lampshades later (thank goodness for _Reparo_ , let me tell you), I had just about calmed down enough to put on an impassive face for the other girls. I wasn’t expecting any of them in the dorm anytime soon – the last lesson of the day was not yet over – but Sirius Black getting a new girlfriend was the sort of gossip Hogwarts thrived on, and I would need to be strong if I was going to get through a discussion about that without crying. Yes, I was devastated, but I couldn’t let anyone know that without them figuring out my secret, and I couldn’t handle that information getting out. I’d never hear the end of it.

It didn’t take me long to recognise I couldn’t face going down to dinner that night. So, I feigned illness. I pulled the curtains around my bed and lay face down, hoping the pillow would muffle any sobs. When the girls came in to drop their bags off I tried to cast a non-verbal Cheering Charm on myself so I didn’t sound like I was crying, more like I was just ill.

“What’s wrong?” asked Lily, all concern and compassion as she peered through the curtains at me. Sometimes I wished she wasn’t so nice; it would have been that much easier to keep things from her.

“Just feeling flat,” I said. It wasn’t even a lie. “I think I’ve been trying to do too much, I just need a night of peace and quiet and I can try to get some more sleep.” Okay, that one wasn’t entirely true, but I wasn’t about to tell Lily what had me so down.

“Are ye okay?” Mary asked, parting the curtains and sitting on the bed.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” I said. “I just need a rest.”

“Right.” She looked back through the curtains at the other girls. “Can we have a minute please?” Plainly, someone nodded or something, and Mary waited till the door clicked shut before speaking again. “Now, have ye heard aboot Sirius an’ tha’ girl? Glenys Marsh?”

I turned my head and looked at her, rolling my eyes. “Yes, I know about that.”

“Right,” she said again. Another pause. “An’ ye’re sure ye’re okay here by yerself?”

“I’ll be fine,” I said, realising we were both repeating ourselves and wondering why it all felt so forced.

“Well, if ye need me, jus’ Summon my hair tie. I’ll be sure t’ notice if tha’ goes flyin’ off.”

“Fine,” I said, somehow finding the strength to smile. “I’ll do that.”

“Okay,” she said doubtfully. “Jus’ ge’ yer rest, then.”

As she left, I wondered why I had pushed her away. Maybe it was because I felt like such an idiot for getting into this position. In any case, just then what I wanted was solitude. (Okay, not quite right – what I really wanted was for Sirius to come bursting in and explain it was all a misunderstanding and he was in fact madly in love with me. But that was never going to happen so I had to settle for something realistic, and solitude seemed like my best bet there.) I had to get my thoughts and emotions in order before I had any hope of facing the world outside, so a few hours alone looked like a good way of doing that.

The next morning, after a rather sleepless night, I considered not going down to breakfast either. Or even down to the common room. The problem, however, was that Lily was threatening to take me to the hospital wing, just to make sure all was well and maybe get me some Pepper-Up Potion. Explaining a broken heart to Madam Pomfrey wasn’t exactly high on my list of priorities that day, so in the end I decided breakfast couldn’t really be all that bad, could it? And if I sat as far away from Sirius as possible then maybe I could ignore this whole new girl thing. What was her name again? Gladys something-or-other? Not that it really mattered, but I supposed I needed to get used to it.

So, finding some resolve, I headed down to the Great Hall for breakfast. I was somewhat later than the others, having needed a long bath to get in the right frame of mind; they had reluctantly gone down ahead of me after I promised to join them soon. And I meant to, I really did. I had every intention of walking into the Great Hall with dignity, not letting on how upset I was.

Unfortunately, Alecto Carrow had other ideas. She appeared in the Entrance Hall at about the same time as I reached the top of the marble staircase, and she was plainly itching for a fight. “Oh, look, it’s the Muggle-lover,” she hissed, pulling out her wand.

“Oh, look, it’s the midget,” I said, not bothering to reach for my own wand. She wasn’t the best at spellcasting – in fact, I was rather surprised she’d made it as far as seventh year – so I wasn’t exactly worried.

“Better to be short than a Mudblood.”

“I wouldn’t know,” I said, “not being either. But you think that if it makes you happy.”

Antagonising an irate Death Eater wannabe wasn’t a very good idea, as I discovered a moment later when she hit me with a remarkably well-placed Trip Jinx. Not even halfway down the marble staircase, I promptly lost my footing and hurtled headfirst to the stone floor below.

Alecto was gloating as I landed unpleasantly close to her feet. “Oh, Cauldwell, are you hurt?” she asked mockingly, kicking me a few times for good measure. “All you deserve … Muggle.”

****

Remus found me first, sitting on the floor nursing my injuries. Both legs were throbbing and my left ankle had swollen rather significantly, so quite frankly the idea of standing up without help wasn’t one I was relishing.

“What happened to you?” he asked.

“Trip Jinx from Alecto Carrow,” I said a little ruefully. “I fell down the stairs.”

He looked surprised. “Her spell actually hit you?”

I smiled despite myself. “Yeah, I was surprised too. Maybe she’s been working on that.”

“Or maybe she was aiming at something ten feet to your right. Anyway, it looks nasty,” he said, pulling his wand out. “ _Tergeo_. There, that’s got rid of the blood on your face. Now, do you need a hand getting up?”

I looked up at him gratefully. “That’d be fantastic, thanks.” And I hoisted an arm around his shoulder to try to get some leverage to stand.

“No worries. We’ll get you to Madam Pomfrey, she can fix just about anything.”

I got to a standing position but winced when his hand grabbed my side. “Do you mind?” I asked, moving it a little lower to my waist. “Thanks. I think I might have cracked a rib or two.”

“How far did you fall?” he asked as we tried to get back up the same stairs I had just tumbled down.

“More than half way. Ooh, watch the neck too, that’s a bit sore.”

In fact, the only way I could walk was to put both arms around his neck (from side on, of course) and put most of my weight on his shoulders. I did feel a bit sorry for him because it couldn’t have been easy, trying to drag me upstairs like that, but with my injured ribs and ankle – which was now so swollen it looked rather like a Quaffle – there wasn’t much alternative.

As we reached the top of the stairs I caught a glimpse of James, Sirius and Peter in the Entrance Hall, probably on their way to Transfiguration. I was a little surprised Sirius was with the boys rather than that tart (sorry, his new girlfriend – I had to remember to be nice about her) but then again he tended to pick and choose when he wanted to behave all boyfriend-y so this was plainly not one of those moments. In any case I didn’t want to see him – I could almost feel the tears welling up just from that glimpse – and was grateful to be able to concentrate on getting to the hospital wing. I’d never thought I could ever be indebted to Alecto Carrow for anything, but she had very successfully given me something else to think about. I might even have to thank her.

Remus for some reason didn’t want to speak to them either – in fact, he looked almost uncomfortable as he glanced over the balustrade at them – but again, for this I was grateful. Maybe Remus understood my problem (always a possibility, especially after the Hogsmeade visit the previous month) and realised I needed to keep away from Sirius. In any case, it was a welcome surprise.

We were soon in the hospital wing and Madam Pomfrey, very good at her job, managed to mend all the minor abrasions, fix the ribs, put my neck back in and get the swelling down in my ankle in less than a couple of minutes. However, she was worried about concussion so insisted on keeping me in for a few hours for observation.

“But I’ve got double Transfiguration this morning, I really need to go,” I protested as she fussed around my bed. “At least to hand my homework in.”

“Nonsense,” she said, peering into my eyes and taking my temperature. “I need to make sure you’re completely cured, I’m sure Professor McGonagall will understand.”

I groaned. I couldn’t even give it to Remus to take in for me – as soon as he’d seen me safely to Madam Pomfrey’s office he’d taken off, saying there was something he needed to take care of before class. “Is there any chance I might make it to Charms after break?” I asked. This was seventh year, after all, and I didn’t want to miss any more classes than I could help.

“We’ll see,” she said.

Not long afterwards Mary came in. I was thankful for the company, not least because Mary was the only of my friends who didn’t do Transfiguration so my secret would be safe.

“So ye are in here,” she said, dumping her bag on the floor. “I heard Remus talkin’ an’ it soonded lik’ ye were pretty badly hur’.”

“Fell down the marble stairs,” I said a little ruefully. “Tripped, actually – Alecto Carrow somehow managed to get a Trip Jinx to work. I’d be impressed if I wasn’t so sore.”

“So why did she trip ye?” asked Mary, sitting down on the bed next to my knees.

“The usual,” I said, attempting to shrug but giving up when the bruising around my ribs started to object – Madam Pomfrey had warned me it would take a couple of hours for the healing paste she’d used on them to work. “I’m a Muggle-lover, apparently. But then I called her a midget and she didn’t take it very well.”

She started laughing. “Ye actually said tha’ t’ her face? Good on ye. Bu’ I can see why she might no’ lik’ it much.”

“Well, I wasn’t in the best mood. I was a bit worked up about this whole Sirius thing. The only reason I came down for breakfast in the first place was to stop Lily marching me in here for a Pepper-Up Potion.”

Mary looked surprised. “Ye were worked up? Why?”

I gave her a look. “Why do you think?”

“Bu’ it’s no’ lik’ he had any say in it,” she said, frowning. “Why woul’ it bother ye?”

“Hang on,” I said, confused, “are we talking about the same thing here? Sirius and that Glinda whatever-her-name-is?”

“Aye, Glenys Marsh,” said Mary, looking just as confused. “What do ye think happened?”

“I walked in on them having a snog. Or, to be precise, just after a snog. I was assuming they were an item now.”

She looked horrified. “Tha’ was you?”

“What do you mean, that was me?”

To my surprise, Mary suddenly burst into laughter. “Oh, Laura, ye really have go’ this backwards. Ye’re on completely the wrong track.”

“What do you mean?” I asked suspiciously.

“Glenys Marsh is in the fan club,” she said, smiling broadly. “Seems she cornered him an’ tried t’ jump on him an’ snog him. He didn’ even know who she was, apparen’ly she’s a new member or summit who was tryin’ t’ impress Elvira, so ye can imagine his reaction, this lass he’s never seen afore throwin’ herself at him while he’s tryin’ t’ escape. An’, word was tha’ some lass ha’ walked in on them a’ the wors’ possible time, bu’ no one knew if tha’ was true because we couldn’ fin’ who it was, an’ he wouldn’ say. Bu’ if tha’ was ye, Laura …”

I sat dead still, my brain very slowly taking this information in. This was a fan club stunt? He had been caught off guard?

He was still single?

I suddenly realised I was staring at Mary, open-mouthed, in astonishment, and hurriedly closed my mouth before I did anything as undignified as dribbling. “So this was all a misunderstanding? Some trollop just lunged at him and he was trying to get rid of her? But then … why did she say they were a couple now?”

“Jus’ t’ see if ye’d believe it, prob’ly,” she said.

I groaned. “And I did.”

“Well, look on the bright side, ye don’ believe it now. He’s no’ seein’ anyone. So ye’ve still go’ a chance. Well, as much o’ a chance as ever.”

Suddenly the whole thing seemed to be much funnier than it had previously, and I started laughing. “Merlin, of all the times I had to run into them, it would be then. Poor him. No wonder he looked so uncomfortable – I thought it was just because they’d been sprung.”

“So ye’ve been torturin’ yerself aboot it,” Mary said sympathetically. “No wonder ye didn’ mak’ it t’ supper.”

“Well, that was a sleepless night wasted. And now I’ve gone and missed Transfiguration. I didn’t even give Remus my homework to hand in – you’d think I’d be better organised.”

She frowned suddenly. “He might no’ have handed it in anyway. He seemed a bi’ worked up.”

“Remus?” I looked at her, surprised. “Why? He was fine when he left here.”

Although, thinking about it, he wasn’t – he had appeared a little agitated as he left the hospital wing. Why, I had no idea. Agitation and Remus weren’t two things I normally associated with one another.

“I heard him an’ the others havin’ a right row after breakfas’,” she said. “Summit aboot fudgin’ a code. James an’ Sirius were on him aboot breakin’ rules o’ some sor’. It was all verra strange.”

“That is weird,” I said. “What were they saying?”

Mary hesitated. “I think Sirius said summit lik’ it didn’ look lik’ nothing, and James said ye’d better have a bloody good reason t’ fudge the code lik’ tha’, an’ Remus said tha’ it was nothing an’ they jus’ needed t’ hear him oot. They all soonded really angry, they were yellin’ so half the school coul’ prob’ly hear. So James said go on, explain yer way oot of it, an’ Remus said tha’ he’d no’ broken any rules, an’ he helped write them so he wouldn’ break them. An’ Sirius said tha’ wasn’ good enough an’ give him one reason no’ t’ curse Remus right now, an’ Remus said tha’ ye were in the hospital wing after bein’ hur’ pretty bad from a jinx.”

I frowned. “What? That’s a bit of a jump. What would me being jinxed have to do with rules that Remus helped write?”

She shrugged. “I wondered tha’ too. Anyway, tha’ was hoo I foond oot ye were in here so I came up right away an’ didn’ hear any more. An’ I woul’ think the lads wen’ straight t’ Transfiguration anyway, it was aboot tha’ time.”

We were interrupted by Madam Pomfrey, who seemed to have suddenly realised Mary had been with me for at least half an hour, which was about twenty-five minutes longer than she usually allowed visitors for. “Right, that’s more than long enough,” she said. “This girl needs rest. Out. OUT!”

I was finally allowed out of the hospital wing at lunch time, having caught up on some sleep and convinced Madam Pomfrey I had no lingering effects from my fall. I joined my classmates in the Great Hall and wolfed some food down hungrily (I’d not had breakfast, after all), giggling at Alecto Carrow honking like a goose at the Slytherin table. I also noticed that the boys seemed to have made up after their argument; in fact, there was so little evidence there had been an argument at all that I started wondering if Mary had imagined it.

As we left the Hall,I was surprised to find a troubled-looking Sirius walking next to me on the way to Herbology. “Look, about yesterday,” he said, his voice quiet like he was hoping no one would overhear us.

“What, the giggler thing?” I asked, interrupting him.

“Yes, that,” he said, his face clearing. “You know she was a giggler, then?”

“Yeah, I know,” I said, hoping he wouldn’t realise how relieved I had been at that information. “It did look like something else, though.”

He groaned. “That was the worst possible moment you could have interrupted us. Any other time and it would have been obvious what was going on. And I didn’t want you to think …” His voice trailed off.

I stole a glance at him, not trusting myself with anything more than that. “Really, what does it matter what I think?” I asked, bracing myself for what I was about to say. “It’s your life, you can do what you like.”

“But –” He trailed off again, as though not really sure what he wanted to say.

“Look, Sirius, I can understand you not wanting anyone to think you snogged a giggler. That would open up way too big a can of worms. But aside from that, what difference does it make?”

“There was nothing there,” he said, and even without looking at him I could feel his eyes on me. “I had absolutely nothing to do with it. I just wanted you to understand that.”

I wanted nothing more than to grab his hand and squeeze it, or, even better, put an arm around him, to let him know that I didn’t blame him at all. But the potential for something like that being misinterpreted (or, to be honest, interpreted correctly, but you know what I mean) was far too high.

“Fine,” I said, moving towards Mary, just wanting to escape before I said too much. “I understand.”

****

The year was wearing on and, to my surprise, even with our sizeable assignments I was still managing to keep my head above water. My spare time, however, was becoming more and more limited and I realised with some disappointment that Dad hadn’t been kidding: this really was a year to buckle down and get into it. Not that I was convinced yet that keeping me from doing anything fun was a good idea – maybe I’d be more willing to hurl myself into yet another three-foot essay from Professor Sprout (on this occasion, ‘Explain the different methods of extracting venom from poisonous plants and ways to increase its supply, referring to at least six different species of plant’) if I had some distractions occasionally.

Sirius, of course, was my most common distraction. He was thankfully still single, despite the fan club’s best efforts, and looking better than ever if that was even possible. And, as I had complained to Mary several weeks earlier, avoiding him was much easier said than done, not least because we had such similar timetables. Add to this the fact James still kept asking me to go to Quidditch practices as a consultant (I felt like charging him an hourly rate sometimes), and insisted Sirius chaperone me to and from the pitch, and it was impossible not to spend time with him. It was both good and bad – I really did enjoy his company, and we got along very well, but there was always that man-of-my-dreams thing that kept getting in the way.

“You know, you do fly very well,” he said as we wandered back to the castle after yet another Quidditch practice, this one in late November. “I can understand why Prongs keeps pestering you to join in.”

I threw him a look. “I’ve _told_ you, I can only do it two-handed,” I snapped, somewhat exasperated as I’d just had this very argument with James himself. “And how does he expect me to catch a Quaffle or hold a Beater’s bat if I need both hands on my broom?”

“Even so, your broom control is very good. Just accept it as a compliment for once.”

I looked at him, feeling chastened. He had a point; he and James were being perfectly nice to me and I kept jumping down their throats. “Sorry. Thanks.”

As we made our way through the oak front doors and reached the top of the marble staircase, I noticed he kept looking at the ceilings as though trying to commit them to memory.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

He looked almost embarrassed. “Peeves keeps moving where the mistletoe is, and I don’t want to get caught out.”

I nodded as we skirted around a suit of armour singing carols – Christmas trimmings had been up for less than a week and I was still getting used to them. “You mean like what happened the other week?”

He shuddered dramatically. “Don’t remind me.”

I smiled. “Sorry.”

“No problem. Anyway, I’m just trying to remember where I have to avoid.”

“Yeah, that’s probably fair enough,” I said. Thinking about it, it must have really been tricky trying to keep on top of things so a repeat of that earlier incident didn’t happen.

He shook his head in frustration. “I must sound like I have such a big head, talking like that …”

And you know, a year or so earlier I’d probably have agreed with him, but now I knew he wasn’t like that. “No you don’t. If I was in your shoes I’d probably do the same thing. You’re just being sensible.”

Sensible? Sirius Black? What potions was I on? He seemed to have the same reaction as he had a bit of a strange expression on his face, and to my surprise he stopped near the top of the stairs on the second floor, unnervingly close to some of the very mistletoe he was trying to avoid.

I stopped with him, acutely aware we were alone in the deserted corridor. “Was it something I said?”

He just looked at me, an expression on his face that I didn’t recognise. “Laura …”

I looked back at him, perplexed and wanting to get back to the tower before I did something stupid. Quivering Wreck 293; Laura 2. Or something like that. “What?”

But whatever it was I never learned, as at that moment Peeves, most probably bored with moving bits of mistletoe, decided to interrupt us by bowling the head of a stone gargoyle down the hallway at us. Distracted, we both jumped out of the way, breaking into laughter as we watched the head roll down the stairs and knock over a suit of armour when it reached the bottom.

The accompanying crash unsurprisingly brought Filch, and we spent a good five minutes explaining to him why we were out of our common room after dinner. Fortunately we weren’t far from Professor Perkins’ office, by the Defence classroom, and she backed us up – her window overlooked the Quidditch pitch and apparently we had been noticed attending practices before. In the end we were allowed to go back to the tower without punishment.

Sirius laughed as we reached the top of the short-cut stairs behind the tapestry and headed up towards the seventh floor. “You know, Laura, I should hang around with you more often. I don’t think I’ve ever got out of a detention so easily.”

I laughed too. “You’ve got too much of a reputation by now. Whereas me, I get detentions maybe five or six times a year, no one ever thinks I’m doing anything wrong. Although,” I added, frowning, “they might think you’re a bad influence on me so my charmed life might be coming to an end.”

He looked shocked, but I caught the ghost of a smile dancing around the corners of his mouth. “Me, a bad influence? Never!”

I smiled. “You’re right, I don’t know where I could possibly have got that idea from. Please forgive me for even thinking it.”

“I should say so. Next you’ll be saying Prongs and I make a habit of being out of the common room after hours. And we all know that’s not true.”

“Of course not,” I deadpanned. “It’s certainly not you two who have an entire drawer to yourselves in Filch’s filing cabinet.” Okay, this was just a rumour, and I’d not been sent to Filch’s office in years so I couldn’t verify it, but chances were it was true. And besides, he didn’t deny it. “It must be two other people who just happen to have the same names as you. I’m so sorry. How could I have even thought it? However can I repay you?”

He winked and put a suggestive arm around my waist. “Well, now you come to mention it …”

I froze involuntarily. _Please don’t do that_. _Even as a joke, I can’t take it._ It took a significant effort for me to stay calm and keep moving (yep, yet another point for Quivering Wreck), and I rolled my eyes in what I hoped was a convincing way.

“Sirius, are we really going that far off reality? Oh, gillywater.” We had reached the Fat Lady, who had been in conversation with her friend Vi and appeared unimpressed at the interruption. She eyed us beadily and then grudgingly swung open, revealing the portrait hole. Sirius let go of me when we climbed through, but grabbed my arm before I could head up the stairs and turned me to face him.

“Why do you keep doing that?”

“Doing what?” I asked, baffled.

“Saying stuff like that, being so far off reality. You’re selling yourself short. You know it’s not true.”

I glared at him, almost hating him for what he was making me say. “I know what’s realistic, what’s believable. And that’s not.” Saying it out loud made it seem so real it almost killed me, but it was true. No one would ever be convinced by Sirius with someone like me.

He shook his head, not letting go of my arm. “A year or two ago, maybe. But not now.”

I just looked up at him resignedly. Why was he so perfect? It made it all so much harder to admit. “You’re being nice. And I appreciate that. But we both know I’m right, so stop pretending I’m not.”

I didn’t think what I’d said was particularly noteworthy – in fact, I thought it was pretty obvious – but Sirius looked stunned and released his hold on me. Not bothering to wonder why he might have reacted like that, I made the most of my opportunity to escape up the girls’ stairs.


	35. The worst news possible

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lots of preparations for the Yule ball, including working out who is going with whom, but it’s all tempered by a comment from Lily.

As December dawned I realised my obsession with Sirius was having an adverse effect on my behaviour. I started to withdraw into myself, not talking much, seeking little company but Mary’s, succumbing to daydreams whenever I felt the need. It wasn’t healthy but I wasn’t sure how to snap out of it, short of either confessing all or avoiding him altogether, which if I thought about it probably amounted to the same thing. Eventually Mary started casting Cheering Charms on me in company, in the hope it would fool people enough I wasn’t quizzed on my conduct.

Unfortunately Sirius – the unwitting cause of everything – wasn’t fooled, and had noticed I wasn’t exactly myself. Worse still, he seemed concerned enough to tackle me on the subject, as I discovered one Wednesday. We were leaving the Great Hall after lunch when he herded me into an empty classroom and sat me down on a table, standing in front of me. “Laura, what’s the matter? You can tell me, surely.”

_It’s better that I don’t tell you. You really don’t want to know that knowing I can’t have you is driving me crazy._

I looked at him, very uncomfortably aware of how close he was – so close that I got distracted by stupid things like how long his eyelashes were, and the fact there were specks of blue in those grey eyes. The urge to grab him and kiss him was almost overwhelming. His face was just there, that flawless face, and all I would have to do was reach up and pull his head towards me. _No, Laura, steady_ , I thought, realising with alarm that my hand had actually started moving upwards to do just that. With an effort I pulled it down and sat on it, hoping he hadn’t noticed anything. _Imagine the rejection_ , I told myself. _Imagine him thinking you were the next Elvira_. The thought was as effective as if a bucketful of snow had been dumped over me.

“Nothing’s the matter,” I said, gazing at a spot just past his left shoulder, thinking that if I wasn’t looking directly at him I would be less likely to do something I’d regret. “I’m fine. Really.” I paused, wondering how soon I could leave the room without seeming rude. My eyes flicked toward him again. “Look, Sirius, I need to be going. Ancient Runes …” That at least was true: if I didn’t get a move on I might be late.

He didn’t look convinced. “Reading between the lines, I’d say you just don’t want to tell me. But something’s wrong. You haven’t been yourself lately, there’s something bothering you.” He paused. “Is everything okay at home?”

Was that what he thought? “No, it’s not that, they’re all fine,” I said, realising too late this pretty much confirmed there was something bothering me.

He smiled briefly. “Good, so we can rule that out. But you’re my friend and I’m starting to get worried about you.”

Friend. The very word cut at me like a knife. Mary was my friend. So was Lily, and Martha, and Charlotte. James was my friend. Remus was my friend. Even Peter could be counted as my friend. But Sirius … it wasn’t enough. No matter how much I tried to convince myself being friends was a good thing, that I should make the most of it as it was all I was ever going to get, I couldn’t do it. Friends just didn’t cut it as far as Sirius was concerned. I wanted – no, I _needed_ more.

I took a breath. “Don’t worry about me. I’m just a bit worked up about NEWTs, that’s all.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You’re sure that’s all?”

“Yes. Yes, of course,” I lied. “Right as rain otherwise. And like I said, I really should get going.”

“Right. If you’re sure.” He stood back to let me pass, still looking sceptical. “I’ll see you later on then.”

****

“Well, tha’s it,” Mary said a couple of days later in the common room where we were trying to make inroads into our mountains of homework. “I’ve had it. I can’ do any more tonight, I need a break t’ clear my brain.” Her unfinished Herbology essay sat on the table in front of her.

“I’m not done yet.” I frantically scribbled another sentence down – I was on a roll and didn’t want to break the momentum.

“Right,” said Mary. “Well, I’m off t’ bed. Goo’ night!” She smiled brightly and, gathering up her things, disappeared up the stairs. Her absence somehow made the rest of the room seem louder, and through the chatter I heard snatches of a muttered conversation somewhere behind me.

“Go on, this is your best chance yet …”

“I don’t think so … Look, it’s not that easy. And what if it doesn’t work out?”

“It will, just do it! Come on, you’re running out of time.”

I shuddered. It was Sirius and Remus, probably planning a prank of some sort – or Sirius was, solo as it so often was now James was otherwise occupied, and Remus, although a prefect, was egging him on. I scribbled down another sentence in my essay, senses alert for whatever they were doing. But it was a false alarm – after a couple of minutes nothing had happened, Sirius obviously deciding there would be a better time for whatever it was. I dipped my quill in the inkwell and tried to regain my thoughts.

Unfortunately, they had interrupted my concentration and I had trouble doing any more of my assignment. Frustrated, after a few minutes I too packed up my books and headed to the dorm, hoping a good night’s sleep would be the tonic I needed.

Just as I finished brushing my teeth, Charlotte bounded into the room in great excitement. “Guess what! Remus just asked me to the ball!”

We showered her with hugs and congratulations: she’d been wanting this for years. I started to re-light the lamps as she beamed at us.

“Just now?” Lily asked.

“Yeah, I just got back from the library, and he came right up and asked me as soon as I got into the common room.”

“About time,” Martha said. “He hasn’t known what he’s been missing out on.”

“That makes three of us with dates,” Charlotte said happily. “We just need to find blokes for Laura and Mary, and we’re set.”

“How about Peter?” asked Martha, a wide grin on her face. “He doesn’t have a date yet, and I’m sure he’d be thrilled to take either one of you.”

Mary and I both laughed. “Sorry, Martha, I’m no’ quite tha’ desperate ye’,” Mary said. “Think I’d prefer a man who’s a’ the verra leas’ my height, an’ preferably taller.”

“Absolutely,” I said. “Particularly with heels, I don’t want to be six inches taller than my date. Or more.”

“Okay then, Mulciber?” Charlotte joked.

“Probably has a date already,” I said, relieved to have a good excuse why he wouldn’t do. “Scylla Pritchard has her talons in him like you wouldn’t credit.”

“Gibbon, then,” Lily suggested with a grin.

We both grimaced. “Too much o’ the gorilla,” said Mary.

“Yeah, he walks like he’s got a watermelon under each arm,” I said. “Can you imagine how that would feel to dance with?” I got off my bed and started an (admittedly bad) impersonation of Gibbon dancing.

“Too har’ fer him t’ stop his knuckles draggin’ on the ground an’ all,” Mary said.

Lily was laughing. “Never was a person more appropriately named. Gibbon by name, gibbon by appearance, gibbon by nature. How he got to be prefect is beyond me.”

Charlotte smiled again. “Okay, how about Gerry Stebbins?” This was aimed at Mary, who had been trying to avoid Gerry for the best part of two years.

“Oh please,” said Mary. “I’d rather go wi’ the gian’ squid.”

“No, sorry, he’s Lily’s,” I said. “After she said she’d rather go out with the giant squid than James, and now she’s going to the ball with James, the squid has got to be disappointed.”

“There’s always Sirius,” Martha said carelessly, making my heart skip a beat. “He doesn’t have a date yet.” I held my breath, just waiting for her to smile mischievously at me. Had she worked out I fancied him? That would be a nightmare. However, she didn’t seem to be paying me the slightest attention, not even out of the corner of her eyes, so it appeared my secret was still safe. For the time being, at least.

“Of course he doesn’t have a date yet,” Lily said, heading into the bathroom to brush her teeth.

“Why would you say that?” Charlotte asked, assuaging my curiosity.

Lily stopped in the bathroom doorway and turned around. “Haven’t you noticed?”

“Noticed what?” asked Mary.

Lily just sighed and looked at Martha. “Remember how you said once, ages ago, that when he falls for someone, he’ll fall hard?” she asked, leaning against the door frame.

Martha nodded. “Yeah, what about it?”

“I think that’s actually happened,” Lily said. “Normally he’d have a date sewn up by now, just to get the fan club off his back, but this year he’s not asked anyone, and I think he’s trying to get the guts up to ask someone in particular.”

My heart sank and I could feel a tear forming in the corner of my eye. If Lily was right, there went any hope I had with him. Not that I’d had any to begin with, but a girl can dream, can’t she?

“Ye’re sure?” Mary asked. “Merlin, imagine if tha’s true …”

I shook my head. “I can’t imagine him ever being insecure about a girl,” I said, trying to convince myself as well as the others, and stubbornly refusing to catch Mary’s eye.

“I don’t know,” Charlotte said slowly, pulling off a shoe. “I think I can back Lily’s theory up.”

“How?” Martha asked.

“Oh, I overheard something in the library the other day. Or was it yesterday?” She frowned slightly. “Sometime recently, anyway. James and Sirius,” she added, taking off the other shoe and looking around at us. “What they were doing there, I don’t know, but it was definitely them.”

“Sounds suspicious already,” Martha said, giggling. “What did they say?”

“James was saying something like, I’m probably not the best person to ask considering it only happened when Lily jumped on me,” Charlotte said. Lily blushed scarlet. “And then he said, you might as well try it, and since when has any girl ever turned you down anyway? Which, you’ve got to admit, with Sirius it’s a good point.” She paused. “I never intended to listen in, you know what I think of that, but this sounded too interesting to miss.”

“Right,” I said, dreading what she was going to say but unable to contain my curiosity. “Go on.”

“Well, Sirius said James should know this was different, and James said go on, why, which I admit was my reaction too,” Charlotte said, throwing her socks into the laundry basket. “And Sirius said something like, this time it matters if she says no.”

Mary’s eyes looked like they would pop out of her head. Martha was distinctly taken aback, but Lily just looked thoughtful, pleased this was confirming her theory. More than a little concerned my heart was about to break, I busied myself with pretending to find a new book to read in the pile next to my bed, hoping no one had noticed the look on my face.

“Anyway,” Charlotte was saying, “James said something like, well I don’t think she will anyway. Say no, that is. And Sirius said, no, she hates me, or something like that. And James asked why he thought that, and Sirius said he’d just gone to talk to her and she wouldn’t even look at him. So whoever she is, it sounds like she’s in a bit of a strop with him. He sounded pretty upset about it at any rate. So yes, I think he’s definitely insecure about someone.”

I shook my head in amazement. Imagine being annoyed with Sirius. Imagine talking to him and not even looking at him. Was that even possible?

Charlotte was still talking. “So James said it didn’t sound good if that was true, and then he said, I guess you’re not going to tell her anytime soon then. He sounded a bit disappointed, like this has been going on for a while and James just wants it over already.”

“Did they name her?” Mary asked.

“No. I was hoping they would, but no luck. And Sirius said he’d tried but had lost his nerve, and now he’d only say something if things improved, and then he said James wasn’t allowed to tell her either. He sounded like he wanted to be sure that whoever she is will react in the right way when he does say something.”

I pulled some hair over my face, hoping desperately I didn’t look too distraught, and even more desperately that Lily and Charlotte were wrong. “Well well well,” Martha was saying. “Looks like it has happened at last. This should be great to watch. Wonder who she is?”

Lily smiled. “I think I’ve got a fair idea.”

“Well?” Charlotte demanded. “’Fess up, come on!”

Lily shook her head. “No, I’m not a hundred percent sure,” she said, looking at all of us in turn. “That is, I thought I was, but this has confused me a bit. See, the girl I’m thinking of isn’t annoyed with him, so something’s not right there.”

Mentally I vowed to keep a close eye on things over the next couple of weeks, to see who he was watching or talking to, or who was giving him the cold shoulder. After all, everyone likes to know what they are up against. I’m ashamed to say I was also hoping that whoever she was would put him off a bit longer – after all, if he was single then there was a vague, remote possibility he might give up on her and need someone (okay, me) to get his mind off it.

Mary groaned. “Tha’s no’ fair. If ye’re no’ goin’ t’ tell us, ye shouldn’ have said anything a’ all.”

Lily smiled. “I’ll check with James,” she said. “He’ll know what’s going on. And he’ll know if I should tell you or not.” And she ducked, laughing, as Martha hurled a slipper at her head.

****

Sebastian Quirke, a very pleasant black boy from Ravenclaw, had been asking Mary to the ball almost weekly since it was announced. He was nice enough and plainly rather keen on her, but Mary was hesitant as he shared a dorm with Gerry Stebbins and she felt it would be a little too awkward for her to be comfortable. However, after the fifth time he asked her, well away from Gerry as he cornered her when she left the library, she decided to give him a chance.

That left me as the only female Gryffindor without a date, which I admit was a bit stressful. Surely I wasn’t so repugnant no one wanted to take me? Ordinary, yes, I could deal with that, but not repulsive. (Even I had an ego that needed maintaining.) I was almost at the point of asking someone myself, but I couldn’t work out who would be the best candidate. After all, it could end up as an actual date, so it had to be someone I could imagine myself snogging. Of course, I wanted to ask Sirius, who was also still dateless, but if he really had his heart set on someone else there wouldn’t have been much point, and I wasn’t sure I’d have the guts to do it anyway. To use his words from six months earlier, I had to ‘pick up and move on’.

“Don’t worry about it, Laura,” Martha said as we left Charms in the first week of December. “You’re a good looking girl, someone is bound to ask you soon. And you’ve still got a fortnight.”

I smiled wryly. “I hope so. I couldn’t handle showing up by myself. Even Peter has a date!” Which was true, but he was going with his cousin Fortuna, so if I was being honest it didn’t really count.

Bernie Carmichael, ahead of us, whirled around in surprise. “Laura Cauldwell, you seriously don’t have a date yet?”

“No,” I said, wondering why that was so strange.

“You’re kidding,” he said, falling into step with Martha and me. “No one’s asked you?”

“No,” I repeated, looking at him curiously. “Why?”

“My word,” he said. “I thought for sure you would have been snapped up weeks ago.”

He made me sound like a limited release broomstick or something, but I was grateful for what he was trying to say. “Thanks, Bernie,” I said. “I appreciate that.”

“You, uh, don’t want to go with me, do you?” he asked after a short pause.

I looked up at him, I’m ashamed to say giving him the once-over as a potential date. Average height, red hair, green eyes, lots of freckles, but a very friendly face and one you couldn’t possibly dislike. If it came down to it, if I tried to forget Sirius existed, I probably could give him a decent snog. “Thanks, Bernie,” I repeated. “I’d love to go to the ball with you.”

He smiled broadly, which lit up his face. “For real? You’re sure? That’s great! I’ll meet you in the Entrance Hall at eight, then?”

“It’s a date,” I said, smiling again, and he took off towards Ravenclaw Tower, tripping over his own feet somewhat but beaming all the same.

Martha grinned. “Told you someone was bound to ask you soon!”

“Yeah. I didn’t realise you meant immediately, though.”

“Well, neither did I, but still, it worked out well, didn’t it!”

“And he’s not too bad,” I said. “If it doesn’t work out, I can always fall back on Dad’s rule about not dating anyone this year.”

****

The morning of the ball dawned bright and cold, and a fresh blanket of snow that must have fallen overnight covered the grounds. It looked rather enticing but not enough to lure us from the warmth of the Gryffindor common room.

The nine seventh-years breakfasted together and went back to the tower as a group to sit by the fire, a habit which was becoming more and more common since Lily and James’ relationship had brought us all together. Eventually, as often happens at that time of year, the conversation drifted to holiday plans.

“How are you spending Christmas, Charlotte?” Lily asked lazily.

“We’ve got a big lunch at Uncle Quentin’s place. Whole family’ll be there, which should be interesting – more than forty of us in one dining room.” She smiled at the thought. “What about you, Lils?”

“I’m not entirely sure,” said Lily, frowning slightly. “Family dos have become more difficult since I came here. Most of the extended family don’t know about me, and Petunia’s barely talking to me, so it might be a quiet day. And we’ve got the new fiancé coming too – did I mention that? Petunia and Vernon got engaged.”

Martha stared at her. “That was quick.”

“Well, yes, I suppose, but she says she wants to. And no, I don’t think she’s pregnant, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“I never said a word,” Martha said, a broad smile on her face.

“You didn’t need to.” Lily flashed Martha a lazy grin. “Then I’ll head to James’ place on Boxing Day,” she added, beaming at James, who looked like Christmas had just come early.

“I can relate to that,” I said. “Not going to James’ place, obviously, or the new fiancé thing, but family events being tricky because of magic. ’Cause Mum’s a Muggle, and most of her family have no idea about us, so we have to have separate parties, one with magic and one without. I think they’re both on the same day this year, and both at our place, which will keep us on our toes a bit.”

“How does that work?” James asked.

I shrugged. “Lunch with one lot, dinner with the other. And lots of cleaning up using magic in between. Means you’re absolutely stuffed by the end of the day.”

Martha was nodding. “Yeah, we’ve got two different stops too, to see each set of grandparents. But they’re not at our place, so I guess that makes my day easier than Laura’s. Peter?”

“Lunch with Mum and Dad, then over to Prongs’ place for dinner,” Peter said from his place on the floor, leaning against the arm of James’ sofa.

Remus nodded. “Same with me.”

Charlotte looked surprised. “Do you lot always have Christmas dinner together?”

“Not at all,” James said. “This year is a special case. We’re expecting Moony’s furry little problem to be making an appearance.”

“What?” Martha asked what I was thinking. How could they know when his pet was going to misbehave?

James clammed up. “Never mind,” he said, looking distinctly uncomfortable. “Let’s just leave it as they’re all coming over for Christmas dinner.” He quickly changed the subject. “What’s going on at your place, Mary?”

Mary, also sitting on the floor, looked up. “We’re headin’ back t’ Scotlan’ this year. Catch up wi’ all Pa’s family, we don’ see them tha’ much since he died. Though wi’ Uncle Magnus tha’ might be a goo’ thing.” Her father’s brother, Magnus, was widely regarded as a nutter and had even tried to reintroduce Creaothceann, a Scottish sport that involved hurling rocks at people’s heads and oddly enough had been banned in the eighteenth century, back into mainstream wizarding society. There was a reason his nickname was ‘Dent-head’. “Then back t’ London on Boxin’ Day an’ lunch wi’ Ma’s side. Shoul’ be grand.” She grinned in anticipation.

“How about you, Sirius?” Charlotte asked. I started a little – it occurred to me that this discussion had probably been a bit insensitive, and I didn’t fancy the thought of getting his temper up. However, if it bothered him he didn’t let it show, instead shrugging with a bit of a distracted look on his face.

“What I always do,” he said indifferently. “Spend it with the Potters.”

“Do you ever miss it?” Lily asked a little tentatively. “Being with family, I mean.”

Fortunately his irritability seemed to have taken a holiday that day, and he just laughed that bark-like laugh of his. “Are you kidding? I miss it like I miss a hole in the head.”

She looked at him sceptically. “They can’t be that bad, surely.”

This time James joined in the laughter. “Put it this way, Lils,” he said, “if he was still talking to them, he wouldn’t be talking to us.”

Sirius nodded. “Well, maybe Charlotte and Martha. And possibly Mary, though I doubt it. But that’d be it of you lot.”

Charlotte smiled. “Why us?”

“Pure-bloods,” James said promptly.

“But so are you,” I said.

He shook his head. “Nah, I’m a blood traitor, he wouldn’t be allowed to talk to me.”

Sirius plainly agreed. “Yes, the Potters used to be okay, but then sixty-odd years back one of them started advocating for Muggles so that pushed them right out to the edge of who’s acceptable. And now Prongs is dating a Muggle-born, so he’s definitely on the banned list.”

“And Moony and Wormtail are both half-bloods, so they’re on the outer right there,” added James. “Plus there’s Moony’s furry little problem, which would also count against him.”

“They’d discount him because of a rabbit?” Charlotte sounded incredulous and I noticed Remus looking a little uncomfortable.

“You’d be surprised,” Sirius said ominously. “So Prongs, Moony and Wormtail are out, so I’d definitely need to find some new best friends. Mulciber, perhaps, my mother’d like him. And then there’s you, Lily, a Muggle-born, so like James said that definitely rules you out as someone to even speak to. And Laura’s a half-blood, but not just any half-blood, you’re the worst type.”

I looked at him in surprise. “There are types?”

“Of course there are. You’re not half Muggle-born, but actually half Muggle. Admittedly they don’t see it as _much_ of a difference, but it’s definitely a step down. Moony’s the same.” He grinned at Remus, who nodded, before turning back to me. “And your dad, who as a pure-blood might have been your saving grace, married a Muggle and even works in Muggle relations, so that makes him more of a blood traitor than Prongs is. So you’re way out, almost as bad as Lily.”

“But Charlotte and I are okay?” asked Martha, her eyebrows raised.

Sirius nodded. “To a point. I think the Trimbles and the Hornbys would pass the test as acquaintances and maybe even dinner party guests, but I certainly wouldn’t be allowed to marry either of you. Families not nearly old enough. And being in Gryffindor would be a mark against you, too – not as bad as Hufflepuff, but definitely not good.” He paused and looked at Mary. “And Mary, though you’re a pure-blood, crazy Uncle Magnus would probably count against you.”

Mary nodded. “Tha’, an’ my brother’s marryin’ a Muggle-born this summer.”

Martha feigned disappointment at this news while Sirius groaned. “Right, that pushes you out completely. Forget we ever spoke.”

“I’ve heard aboot the Blacks,” Mary said. “Though I’m no’ sure ye’d be able t’ fin’ anyone t’ marry, if they’re tha’ strict.”

James laughed again. “Got it in one, Mary. There are so few pure-bloods families left, particularly the really old ones, that it’s no surprise they’ve resorted to marrying their own cousins.”

“Second cousins,” Sirius said, the look on his face halfway between a smile and a glare. “They’re second cousins. I’m not quite as inbred as you like to make out.”

Lily gasped. “Your parents are second cousins?”

He nodded, his expression sour. “Yep. Both Blacks as well, which is why I’m such a disappointment to them. Not nearly enough pride in the family name for their liking.”

Charlotte looked confused. “I’ve never understood that. What’s the difference between a first cousin and a second cousin?”

“The connection goes back one more generation,” Sirius said. “First cousins have the same grandparents, whereas second cousins have the same great-grandparents. If you’re someone’s second cousin then your respective parents would have been cousins. And that means inbreeding is considered to be less of an issue.”

“Oh, right.” Charlotte looked like she was having difficulty trying to work out the logistics in her head, but I had a question burning in me and decided to leave her to her machinations.

“So who _would_ you be allowed to marry?” Not me, obviously, but I wanted to know what he’d have ended up with if he’d stayed.

He looked at me curiously. “Well, as eldest son and principal heir to the ‘Noble and Most Ancient House of Black’” (this with his fingers acting as inverted commas), “there’s a considerable screening process. She’d have to be a nice, respectable pure-blood girl from one of the oldest families, preferably personally chosen by my dear old mum and vetted several times to make sure she’s appropriate and doesn’t have any skeletons in her family tree. No Squibs, or anyone who married a Muggle, that sort of thing. It would help if she’d been in Slytherin, of course. And she’d be obedient and virginal – yes, definitely virginal,” he added, responding to Peter’s snigger, “we can’t have any soiled goods arriving at the House of Black.”

Martha snorted in disgust. “Soiled goods? You make her sound like – I don’t know, a commodity or something!”

Sirius smiled sourly. “Well, that’s what she’d be. Women who marry Blacks are only there to provide heirs. They’re chosen based on their breeding potential.” He grinned suddenly, looking around at our faces. “You all look shocked. What did you think it was like?” We were all dumbstruck so he went on. “Where was I up to?”

“Obedient and virginal,” said Peter with a smirk.

“Right,” said Sirius. “So she’d be obedient and virginal and in all likelihood have absolutely no interest in me beyond my last name, birth order and Gringotts vault. And we’d be married in an all pure-blood ceremony, and then she’d be expected to pop out an heir every couple of years. Preferably male, obviously, to keep the name going, and hopefully more than one of those in case something happens to the first one. Like running away, for example.” He smiled briefly and for a split second I was sure I saw a sparkle in his eyes. “An heir and a spare, as they say,” he went on, making a face. “Once there are enough of those, I suspect, we’d end up in separate bedrooms and I’d drink myself to an early grave out of sheer boredom.” He stopped again, looking back at me since I’d asked the original question, and when he spoke again his voice was bitter. “What _I_ want, of course, is completely irrelevant, as my duty to the family is far more important than anything as trivial as personal preferences.”

It was worse than I’d thought – no wonder he ran away, if he’d had that to look forward to. And I wasn’t the only one to think that, from the look of the faces around me, though Remus, James and even Lily looked suspiciously like they were trying not to smile.

Charlotte spoke first. “I knew it was bad but I never realised it was as bad as that. No wonder you got out. You’d end up with Scylla Pritchard!”

He shook his head and grinned suddenly. “I did say virginal, remember? No, more likely Maggie Flint, but I suspect she’s got too much of a mind of her own to make the grade. Alecto Carrow is another possibility. Now there’s a fine example of what inbreeding can do.” He shuddered visibly. “One of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, of course, so she’d have less hoops to jump through,” he went on, referring to the list of the magical families said to have the purest blood. “Barkwith and Urquhart are half-bloods, though, so they’re out.” He paused, his face turning sour again. “But why stop at our year? Age is irrelevant when you’ve got a dynasty to continue.”

“Well,” Lily said, “now we know why you left. I’d say it’s definitely better to be broke and homeless than having to deal with that sort of rubbish.”

He grinned again. “Yep, now it’s Regulus’ turn. The spare to replace the heir. He can deal with all the rules and expectations and marry the lovely respectable Slytherin virgin our dear mother picks out for him. I’d rather get Kissed by a Dementor than have a life like that.”


	36. Snowballing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a snowball fight, which - in theory at least - should be enough to get any excess tension out, Laura goes to the ball with Bernie Carmichael, determined to enjoy herself no matter what (or who) Sirius is doing.

At lunch time my attention was diverted from my beef casserole by my date for that evening, Bernie Carmichael, stumbling into the Great Hall suffering, yet again, from a jinx of some sort. I groaned.

“Looks like Bernie’s been in the wars again.”

Mary giggled. “What is it this time?”

“Jelly-Legs, by the looks of it. Or something similar.”

To be honest, I was starting to have second thoughts about going to the ball with him at all, as this sort of thing appeared to be business as usual as far as he was concerned. I didn’t know him all that well and hadn’t really paid him much attention in the past few years, but from what I had noticed (admittedly, I’m ashamed to say, only dating from the time he had asked me to the ball) he did seem to be a regular target for practical jokes and errant hexes. One day he had wandered into the Great Hall at lunch time quite obviously the victim of a misplaced Hair-Thickening Charm. Another time he’d had to leave Charms early after he found himself in the path of a wayward spell that made him grow feathers, and on yet another occasion he was sent to the hospital wing after being hit with a Babbling Curse which meant he was unable to stop talking, something that didn’t go down very well with Professor McGonagall in that day’s Transfiguration class.

After we watched him very gingerly try to climb over the bench at the Ravenclaw table, I turned to Mary again. “Has he always been the butt of everyone’s jokes, or does he just have really bad luck with being in the wrong place at the wrong time? And, in either case, how on earth did he end up a prefect?”

“I don’ know,” she said, reaching for some steak and kidney pie. “Bu’ it prob’ly doesn’ matter much, anyway. Ye just need t’ dance wi’ him a couple o’ times an’ then ye can fin’ someone better t’ talk t’.”

“So long as he’s not hexed in the meantime,” I said grimly. “Really, the sort of boy I attract hasn’t improved in the slightest. Rather than a decent date, I’ve been landed with an eternal patsy. With my luck he’ll miss the ball entirely because he’s stuck in the hospital wing after being hit with something else, and I’ll be sitting there on my own all night.”

“Aye, good poin’,” she said. “Ah, well, maybe ye’ll be in luck an’ he’ll mak’ it t’ the ball in one piece.”

I nodded. “Yeah, fingers crossed.”

Fortunately Bernie opted not to join the throng of students having a snowball fight after lunch on the lawns, probably figuring he’d be likely to break a leg or something. Mary and I, however, had no such qualms, and had a lovely time hurling snowballs at whoever happened to be in our way at the time. Or (in my case) whoever was near Sirius, because it gave me a good excuse to look in his general direction. Sad, I know, but it was as good as I was ever going to get so I allowed myself this one indulgence.

James, as a Chaser for and captain of the Quidditch team, was an excellent throw and was busy showing off to younger students. He hit each one in turn smack on the chest just below where the collarbones met, not too hard but enough to leave a damp spot on their cloaks, which they all laughed at until it was their turn to get hit. Lily stood off to one side, smiling indulgently but occasionally shaking her head as she watched him.

So far I had managed to avoid getting hit by a snowball myself – as well as being a pretty accurate throw I was also, as Mary had said at the beginning of term, rather good at dodging things, a throwback from a childhood spent getting out of the way of whatever spells Bea shot at me. Suddenly, though, I was cleaned up from behind by a large snowball, and turned to see a grinning Peter.

“That was a cheap shot,” I said, picking myself up, “hitting me when my back was turned.”

“I’d never have got you otherwise,” he said. “You’re dodging them too well.”

“Of course,” I grinned, sending a snowball his way and catching him square on the nose, which to be fair was reasonably long and therefore easier to hit.

“Oi,” said Sirius from one side, “no hitting my friends.”

“He hit me first,” I said, grateful for another excuse to look at him. “And from behind, no less. I was just defending myself.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he said. “Do you have permission to throw snowballs at us?”

That was a bit rich, pretending I needed his permission to take part in the fight. And taking exception to my hitting Peter, of all people, when I suspected he had been about to take aim at him himself. Man of my dreams or not, he wasn’t going to get away with that.

“Well, Your Highness, I didn’t realise I needed permission,” I said archly, rolling up another ball and throwing it at him. He moved to avoid it too late and it glanced off his right temple. You know, for someone who was so good at dodging spells in a duel, he was surprisingly slow in a snowball fight. Anyway, he retaliated by throwing one back at me, but it was off target and I evaded it easily. I sent one back quickly and hit him on the chest. Admittedly I might as well have been pulling his hair in the primary school playground, but it was still distinctly satisfying.

James had stopped pelting fifth-years and was watching us, laughing. “I think she’s got you beat, Padfoot.”

Sirius pouted. “It’s not fair. She’s cheating.”

I laughed too. “Sirius Black, there is probably only one thing in the world that I am better than you at, and it’s throwing rolled up bits of frozen water at people. It’s not much to brag about. Can’t you at least give me this?”

“I guess,” he said, trying unsuccessfully not to smile. “But just this, mind, and don’t go telling too many people. We can’t have you getting delusions of grandeur.”

I rolled my eyes. “Oh, damn, I was going to put it in my CV,” I said, starting to write in the air with an imaginary quill. “ _Can beat Sirius Black in a snowball fight._ That’ll help me get a job, won’t it?”

He retaliated by sending another snowball my way, and the fight was back on in earnest, only ending when I hit him in the nose and it started bleeding. Oops. Sometimes my aim was too good.

“Oh, Merlin, I’m sorry!” I said, hurrying over to him. He was holding a handkerchief up to his face to try to stem the blood flow, but unfortunately it had been a good shot with a very compacted snowball and his nose looked broken. I pulled off my gloves and got my wand out.

“ _Episkey_ ,” I muttered, and the nose realigned itself. Thank goodness; I didn’t want to be responsible for him looking less than perfect on the night of the ball. Even if it was for Anne Mockridge, a very pretty sixth-year from Ravenclaw who was his date that evening. (Rumour had it she had already had a date when Sirius asked her, but ditched him on the spot for what she saw as a better offer.) I ran my finger lightly down his nose, looking for any breaks, trying to make sure it was definitely fixed. It appeared to be so I moved on to cleaning off his face. “ _Tergeo_.”

He was looking at me strangely as I fussed over him, an odd look in his eyes I couldn’t place. I took his bloody handkerchief and cleaned that off too (noticing in the process it was monogrammed – just in case I needed reminding of how far out of my league he was), and then, quickly stowing my wand away, looked critically at his face, which aside from a bit of blood was just as flawless and handsome as it had been before he’d been hit. “I’ve missed a bit,” I said, reaching up with the now clean handkerchief to wipe a few drops of blood off his cheek. Suddenly I realised how close we were – I had one hand on his face and the other on his shoulder – and I tensed up again, hoping I would get through this without making a fool of myself. Our faces were only inches apart and he was staring at me, his grey eyes inscrutable, and one of his hands had come up to my face and was gently wiping my hair away from my mouth. It was one of the most surreal things I’d ever experienced.

Then, as abruptly as it had started, the moment ended. He had apparently realised what it looked like and pulled away, taking his handkerchief back from me in the process and shaking his head. “I’m sorry, Laura,” he muttered as he hurried away. I was left standing there, flustered, trying not to notice the death looks Elvira and her cronies were sending me.

(Quivering Wreck 965; Laura 5. Or that was how it felt, at least.)

Mary dodged a few snowballs on her way over to me. “What was tha’ all aboot?” she asked as she guided me to safety, away from the fight.

“I have no idea,” I said, feeling absolutely confused. It had felt for all the world like he was about to kiss me, but obviously that couldn’t be right. In any case he had come to his senses before he’d embarrassed himself in front of half the school. “I broke his nose with a snowball, but then I fixed it, and I was trying to get the rest of the blood off him …”

“I can tell ye what it looked lik’,” she said, “bu’ ye prob’ly know tha’ anyway. Actually …” Her voice trailed off and she looked rather thoughtful as she glanced over her shoulder at the boys. Before I could quiz her about what she was thinking, though, we had reached the rest of the girls, who looked like they were about to ask exactly the same thing Mary had. Thankfully she silenced them with a look – I didn’t have a clue what had just happened and needed to work that out myself before I could tell them.

“Oh, look at the time,” Lily said suddenly, her voice somewhat louder and higher than usual. “We’d better get upstairs and start getting ready!” It was only four o’clock but I was grateful to her for making our excuses. Looking around, I saw most of the students had red spots on their faces and arms from where they’d been hit and Charlotte, clearly wanting to make small talk until we were out of earshot, made a comment that without bruise-healing creams, most of the people at the ball would be looking decidedly the worse for wear. Relieved to be able to follow her lead, we spent much of the journey up to Gryffindor Tower speculating on who would look the most black-and-blue if they let nature take its course on their skin.

****

We spent a leisurely four hours preparing for the ball, trading jewellery depending on what matched our dress robes best, experimenting with makeup styles and colours, and checking out each other’s perfumes to find what we liked best. Lily was steadfastly refusing to share her theories of the snowball incident that afternoon, so in the end I gave up and was content to let her try several different hairstyles on me to figure out which one suited me the most.

“I think the half-up-half-down will work best with those robes,” Charlotte said after a while. “With that wide neckline it breaks it up a bit, especially if you’re not going to wear a necklace.

Martha screwed up her face. “A necklace would ruin it. With all that skin we want it to be unbroken.”

I kind of agreed with her: the royal blue robes I had chosen had a neckline so wide we had to do some fancy wandwork to keep my bra straps out of sight, and I thought they did look better without jewellery around my neck. In fact I had lent most of my necklaces out to the other girls – Charlotte wore one, Martha another and Mary yet another – so I didn’t have much to choose from anyway.

“What about me?” Lily asked. “Hair up or down?”

We looked her over. She wore robes of ivory with a gold and emerald-green trim, accented with some emerald earrings of Martha’s. “Up, I think,” Mary said after a moment. “Martha, can ye do a French twis’?”

Martha grinned. “Easy.” She pointed her wand at Lily’s thick auburn hair and it did itself in a moment.

“That’s amazing,” I said. “I’ve never got the hang of those kinds of spells. You’re going to have to teach me that one.”

“Sure,” she said with a wink. “Tomorrow on the train, okay?” She then pointed her wand at her own hair and watched in the mirror as it changed from its usual straight style to round waves that rolled down her back in a cascade. “What do you think?”

“Stunning,” Lily said. “I’m with Laura. You definitely have to teach us those.”

Martha just shrugged – she’d never been that good at taking compliments. “Well, with these robes I couldn’t go too fussy, could I?” With her apricot-coloured robes with a revealing neckline and a bit of a frill around the skirt, I knew what she meant – the frill meant that anything too elaborate above the waist would look a bit overdone.

Charlotte, for her part, had taken Martha’s spot in front of the mirror and was fussing with her own hair. She planned to leave it down for the night, tied partially off her face with a golden scarf. Matched with her fitted scarlet robes she looked incredible.

“Tha’ looks amazin’,” Mary said when she was done. “Yer skin looks lik’ it’s glowin’ or summit.”

Lily just laughed as she fished around for some lipstick. “Is that the scarf, or is that the fact she’s going with Remus?”

Charlotte blushed, but didn’t answer; Martha did for her. “Remus, definitely,” she said with a grin. “Seriously, that boy won’t know what’s hit him.”

“Neither will Sebastian,” Lily said. “Mary’s never looked better.” She was right – Mary’s deep violet robes sat perfectly on her figure, the low-cut bodice fitting like a glove. Mary clearly agreed.

“I almos’ don’ recognise myself,” she said when Martha had put her hair as well into a French knot. “I look almos’ bonny.”

I frowned as I twirled a finger through my hair. “I feel like I should be more into my date, if that makes sense. I mean, Lily’s got James, and Martha and Davey are dating, Charlotte’s going with Remus, and Mary quite fancies Sebastian. And I’m going with Bernie Carmichael, who’s nice enough, but …”

“But you can’t see yourself snogging him,” Charlotte said matter-of-factly, spraying some scent into her hair. “Yes, I can understand that.”

I shook my head. “I feel so ungrateful. I mean, I’m probably lucky to have been asked at all, and now I’m wondering why I’m bothering to get so tizzied up.”

Lily came over and gave me a hug. “You’re not getting tizzied up for a boy. You’re getting tizzied up for you, because we all need a night to look beautiful.” She stepped back and looked at me critically. “And I wouldn’t be worried on that score, Laura. You’ll knock his socks off.”

Finally it was almost eight o’clock, so we headed out of the dorm and into the common room. Lily and Charlotte met their dates there, and the looks on the boys’ faces was worth bottling as they took in the visions who would be accompanying them. James, in very stylish dress robes of dark green, seemed unable to speak for a full minute, while Remus, in robes very similar to the navy blue ones he’d worn two years previously, was doing his best impersonation of a fish, his mouth opening and closing silently as he took in Charlotte’s appearance. Even Sirius, looking incredible in extremely tasteful black robes with a grey trim and about to climb through the portrait hole, did a decided double take when he saw us, and opted to wait for us to join him before he headed downstairs to meet his date. Peter, it appeared, had already taken off with his cousin Fortuna.

And so Mary, Martha, Sirius and I all headed down the stairs together to meet our dates, we girls walking more slowly than usual to make sure we didn’t trip over our robes or take a tumble down the stairs due to our heels. Sirius laughed at us for declining the short-cut staircase from the fourth floor to the second, but with the trick step halfway down none of us trusted ourselves to keep our footing. Our timing was spot on anyway: it was pretty much right on eight o’clock when we arrived in the Entrance Hall.

Mary and I found Bernie and Sebastian fairly quickly – Bernie’s red hair always was very distinctive, and fortunately he didn’t appear to be suffering the effects of any wayward jinxes. He actually stared blatantly when he saw me, smiling broadly.

“Wow, Laura, you look unbelievable,” he said, offering me his arm.

“Thanks,” I said, smiling back at him. The tizzying had most probably been worth it after all. “You look pretty good too.” It was true. He’d managed to find some navy blue dress robes that complemented rather than clashed with his hair, and without the heavy bag of school books I always saw him with he was distinctly taller. Which was probably a good thing, as with my heels on there wasn’t much of a height difference.

“I still can’t believe you’re coming to this with me,” he said as the four of us made our way into the Great Hall. “I was so sure that – that someone else would have asked you.” It almost sounded like he had someone particular in mind, though for the life of me I couldn’t think who.

“Well,” I said, “they didn’t. I’m clearly not as popular as rumour makes out.” It was said as a joke but he took me seriously.

“Oh, don’t think that. You’re one of the belles of the ball here tonight.” We found a table with room for four people and prepared to settle in for the night.

The food was excellent and the company almost as good: Bernie and I were getting along quite well, though there was a slight awkwardness to the conversation even despite the fact the punch had the distinctive aftertaste of Firewhisky, an indication it had been spiked by someone or other. However, I did my best to appear interested in Bernie’s chatter, using all my willpower to focus on that and ignore Sirius and Anne Mockridge. They were with Peter and Fortuna at a table not far from the one Lily, James, Charlotte, Remus and the other prefects from fifth year up – and their dates – were sharing at the front of the room, and were pretty much right in my line of sight. As such it was very difficult not to look at them, but I really didn’t want to know what they might be doing.

After the meal Lily and James came over to have a chat – well, Lily did, and I didn’t think James was game to let go of her hand in case she escaped – and I used the conversation as another excuse to not look at where Sirius was. I even pulled it off: I had to admit, my self-discipline was getting better. (Another point against Quivering Wreck! Yes!) Eventually the band got underway and we all got up to dance.

Bernie and I danced to several songs, then took a break while he went off to find some Ravenclaw pals. He’d been a perfect gentleman but it didn’t really feel like a date – more like I was a precious thing he was scared of breaking, or something out of his reach he didn’t dare get too close to. It was distinctly unsatisfying, so I found Mary, who was at the bar with her date getting a drink, and we sat down at an empty table to talk it over while Sebastian tactfully went over to join Bernie and the other Ravenclaws.

“It does seem odd,” she said. “So there’s nothin’ there? No sexual tension, no hands goin’ where they shouldna, no flirtin’?” Mary always was one to get straight to the point.

“No, nothing like that. It’s not that he’s not perfectly charming and he doesn’t say all the right things, it’s just …” I paused, looking for the right words. “It’s just that while he keeps saying how great I look and how amazed he is I came with him, he’s – distant.” Still not quite the right word, but probably as close as I was going to get at the moment. “Oh, I don’t know how to explain it. Let’s talk about your night. Having fun?”

“Fantastic,” she said, letting the change of subject pass without comment. “I don’ know why I ever considered no’ comin’ wi’ Seb. We’ve bin gettin’ along lik’ a cauldron on fire.”

“So you don’t mind the concept of seeing him after tonight?” I asked, referring obliquely to the ball in fifth year after which she had tried to ditch Gerry Stebbins.

“Definitely no’,” she said, licking her lips. “I think thi’ one coul’ las’ a while.” She grinned wickedly and I groaned and pretended to avert my eyes.

Bernie and Sebastian were still at the bar with their friends so we sat and watched the dancers for a bit. Lily and James, holding each other closely, made such a cute couple, even if they were invariably tailed – at a distance – by an increasingly jealous Snape. Charlotte and Remus were dancing together, closely but somewhat awkwardly, but that could have been due to the fact Irving Mulciber and Scylla Pritchard kept intentionally bumping into them, trying to knock them over. Our silent reverie was interrupted by Sirius, smiling that devastating smile and looking incredibly striking in those dress robes.

“My turn now?” he asked easily, offering me his hand.

“Sure,” I grinned, standing up and trying not to let on that my knees felt a bit like jelly. Based on Bernie’s behaviour and the fact I couldn’t see him anywhere, he wouldn’t be too cut up if I danced with someone else for a spell, and there was no way known I would have ever been able to say no to Sirius. With that smile, if he’d asked me to jump off a cliff with him, I would most probably have agreed.

Not counting Bernie, who’d barely touched me really, and Gwendolyn’s wedding, where I was doing a job, the last time I’d been this close to a boy, face to face, was with Bertram. Fortunately, this was nothing like being held by Bertram. For a start Sirius was rather taller, probably by about four or five inches. Luckily I had two-inch heels on which made the height difference more manageable, though usually it probably wasn’t too bad. (In flat shoes I was about eye level with his shoulders.) They were also quite different builds – Bertram was stocky and rather burly from his years of playing as a Beater, whereas Sirius, while he had broad shoulders and wasn’t what you would call small by any stretch, had a leaner, more wiry build. And while Bertram would never have danced like this without a suggestive hand moving down from the small of my back, Sirius as nothing more than a friend was never going to try anything improper. Even without my obsession with him, I had to admit dancing with him felt nice – comfortable but not too intimidating.

We danced in silence for a while, enjoying the companionship and moving seamlessly in time with the music, though perhaps he was holding me a little closer than I would have expected. Whether I’d had too much of the punch or what it was, I didn’t know, but for whatever reason once we had started I felt absolutely comfortable in his arms. No tension, no panic, just comfortable. Maybe, if I closed my eyes and let my mind wander a bit, I could even convince myself that, just for those few minutes, we actually were a couple.

Eventually, realising I should do something before I got too immersed in that idea and potentially did something embarrassing, I decided to break the silence, pulling back a bit and looking him in the face. “Do you remember the last time we danced together like this? Back in fifth year?”

“Don’t remind me,” he said. “Bloody Prongs, handing out dares left right and centre. I felt so ashamed of myself.” He paused. “Things have changed a bit since then, haven’t they?”

It sounded like a rhetorical question, but I decided to answer it anyway. “Well, I guess I’m not the least likely candidate anymore,” I said, stating the obvious.

“It’s hard to believe you ever were,” he said quietly. “And this time you actually know how to dance.”

I smiled. “Yeah, I was pretty ordinary back then, wasn’t I?”

“I would never call you ordinary,” he said. “But yes, maybe not the world’s best dancer.”

I smiled at the memory – it was a bit unpleasant, but I had to admit it was funny. “Frankly, I was surprised you even knew my name back then.”

He looked scandalised. “How could you even think that? I’d been calling you by name for years!”

“I meant my first name. I’m not sure you’d ever used that before.”

He was quiet for a bit, evidently contemplating what I’d just said. I rested my chin on his shoulder, feeling his heart beat rather quickly through the robes.

“You know,” he said a minute or so later, “I was going to ask you to this ball myself.”

I looked back up at him, startled. “Really? But I thought …” I trailed off, thinking furiously. Was he saying what I thought he was saying? I mean, if Lily’s theory had been right … no, that couldn’t be me, I had to have misunderstood. I thought I’d better bite the bullet and just ask. “Are you sure you didn’t want to ask someone else and just didn’t get around to it?”

He looked surprised. “Why would I want to do that? What on earth gave you that idea?”

“Oh … nothing.” I wasn’t about to put Lily’s name out there. Hoping it wouldn’t matter, I rested my chin back on his shoulder and we danced the song out in companionable silence.

When the music stopped, however, he didn’t let go of me. I had intended to go and find Bernie again – after all, he was my date – but Sirius held fast. “I don’t think so,” he said quietly into my ear.

“What do you mean?” There was no point trying to force my way out: firstly he was much stronger than me, and secondly – well, he had his arms around me, so I wasn’t going to make too much of an effort to leave. “I really should be getting back to Bernie.”

“The thing is,” he said, still quietly and almost nervously, “now that I’ve got you, I have absolutely no intention of letting you go.”

I looked at him, somewhat dazed. “What do you mean?” I said again, aware I was sounding like a broken record.

“And _definitely_ not with you looking like that. You look incredible. I’ve hardly been able to take my eyes off you all night. In fact, Anne ditched me half an hour ago because I wasn’t paying her any attention, I was watching you too much.”

The next song had started, so he gently steered me across the floor again. I needed all my self-control to keep going and not just collapse in a heap on the floor. Was he really saying what I thought he was saying? This was the stuff of dreams, it didn’t really happen, and definitely not to me. Surely not?

Suddenly he stopped moving, and I realised we were close to the door into the Entrance Hall. “Come on,” he said, releasing his hold but then gripping my hand firmly. “Let’s get out of here.”


	37. Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The remainder of the Yule Ball, and the train ride home.

Feeling more than a little dazed, I let Sirius lead me outside. The winter air was cool against my skin but I didn’t really feel it, there was too much going on inside me. We rounded a corner or two and found ourselves by the greenhouses.

He stopped and turned me to face him. “So, Laura, this thing with Bernie Carmichael. Is it an actual date, or is he just someone to come to the ball with?” he asked, looking more nervous and vulnerable than I’d ever seen him.

“Bernie?” I repeated. “No, it’s not a date. He asked me to the ball and I said yes. That’s about it. Why?”

“Nothing more?”

I laughed. “Definitely not. He’s been holding me with kid gloves all night. It’s almost like he’s scared to touch me.”

He grinned, though even that looked nervous. “In that case, maybe I can get away with stealing you away from him.”

“You haven’t really stolen me,” I said. “We’ve only been gone a couple of min-”

He cut me off by kissing me, hesitantly at first, just a brush of his lips against mine, as though he was worried I might pull away or something. And while that was never going to happen – I wasn’t stupid enough to throw this opportunity away – it did take a moment for me to get over my surprise. Having said that, though, my brain was obviously a bit behind the rest of me because before I realised what was happening I had my arms around his neck and was pulling him back towards me, seeking his lips again. And, when I found them, this time they stayed.

Wow. Double wow. And to think I’d thought kissing Bertram was good. This was unbelievable. So tender, so delicate in some ways, so self-assured in others, I felt it all the way down to my toes. His lips were soft and warm against mine and he tasted delicious. Martha had been right – he was a sensational kisser.

And then, suddenly, he stopped, and so did I, horrified he might have come to his senses and was wondering what he was doing. But he smiled softly and said, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

“Really?” The word was out of my mouth before I could stop it. “But why me?”

“I just can’t convince you how amazing you are,” he said with mock exasperation, his hand running through my hair. “Don’t –” he knew I was going to ask about Martha, or Charlotte, or Anne Mockridge – “that argument hasn’t held water for ages, and you know it. You are every bit as beautiful, and talented, and smart, and special – in fact you’re more than they are, more incredible than any other girl I’ve ever met.” I gazed at him, searching for any sign he might be joking around before I let myself believe him, but his face was open – it had lost its haughty look like it did when he was being genuine. So that must mean he actually … meant this?

I didn’t know what to say, so I settled for “Thank you”.

He kissed me again, and suddenly we didn’t need to say anything else. This time it quickly became more intense, more passionate, as I let myself give in to what I’d been longing for all those months, and soon enough I found myself pushed up against the wall of Greenhouse Three, trying in vain to pull him closer to me … the miniscule gap of air between us meant we were nowhere near close enough. If a single hair could have fit in the gap, that meant we needed to be closer. The need I felt for him right then was the most powerful sensation I’d ever had and I couldn’t have fought it even if I’d wanted to. I didn’t know (or care) how much time was passing, all that mattered was we were there, that we were together. I didn’t even feel the snowflakes that started landing on us until we each had a soft white coating on our dress robes.

Finally the snow got heavy enough so even we noticed it, and we reluctantly broke apart and made our way back inside to the ball. Sirius put his cloak around my shoulders (“I can’t have you catching cold on me, not now”) and held me tight as we walked into the Great Hall. While I had no particular desire to re-join the party, I did understand I had to apologise to my date for running out on him like that.

I spotted Bernie’s red hair right away: he was dancing with Thalia Strout from Hufflepuff. I caught his eye and reluctantly moved away from Sirius, smiling apologetically. He lost no time in coming over to me, Thalia waiting a few yards behind him while we talked.

“I’m so sorry, Bernie,” I began, but he cut me off.

“Come to tell me you’re ditching me for Sirius Black?”

I nodded, looking as remorseful as I could. “I never intended to, but …” I trailed off. What could I say? The man of my dreams had just swept me off my feet and so everything else had paled into insignificance? While it was the truth, I didn’t think it would be very tactful.

He smiled, though it came out a bit sour. “I saw you two dancing together,” he said, breaking the uncomfortable silence I had left. “The way you looked at each other. Then saw him take you outside, and you were gone for almost an hour. It didn’t take Merlin to work out what was happening, he’s been after you for ages and you didn’t exactly discourage him. Besides, he’s been hexing me every chance he got for a couple of weeks now, so from my perspective this is probably safer.” He paused, and when he spoke again his voice was bitter. “I won’t say I’m not disappointed. My own fault, though. It was dumb of me to leave you alone, it was only a matter of time before he moved in. Then again, you were so obviously not interested in me in the slightest I wasn’t sure why I was even bothering.”

I stared at him, surprised – I thought I’d put on a better show than that. “It’s not that I don’t like you, Bernie …”

He cut me off again. “Yeah, yeah, but as a friend. I know.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, ashamed of my behaviour. I must have been an awful date. “I didn’t realise …”

He smiled again, still sourly. “Hey, you tried. At least you didn’t spend all night gawking at him like he was at you.” He shook his head irritably. “Why he didn’t just ask you to this thing in the first place is beyond me, it would’ve made things so much simpler.”

Suddenly I remembered something he’d said earlier, and even as he turned to go to Thalia I called him back, unable to stop myself from asking the question. “Bernie, did you say he’s been after me for ages? How long is ages?”

Bernie looked surprised as he paused and faced me again. “You didn’t know? It’s been going on, I don’t know, most of this term at least. I guess he probably was trying not to be conspicuous, though … and you do sit in front of him in classes so you probably couldn’t see him … but it was a bit obvious, really. To some of us, anyway: if your competition is Sirius Black, you tend to notice,” he said, his voice bitter again. “Listen, I should get back,” he added, indicating Thalia, “the next song’s starting.” He turned his back on me before I could say anything else and walked Thalia back to the dance floor.

Sirius joined me as soon as Bernie had gone. “Looks like he took it okay,” he said, standing behind me and putting his arms protectively around my waist.

“Yeah, kind of,” I said, still trying to take in what Bernie had said. “He’s not all that happy, though. I feel a bit bad for him.” I paused, thinking. “Sirius –” I turned around, his arms still around me – “Bernie said he wasn’t surprised, that you’d been after me for months.”

He blushed. “And here was me, thinking I was being subtle.”

“If it’s any help,” I said, “I didn’t have a clue.”

He grinned and kissed my forehead lightly. “That’d be right, the one person I did want to know, and you had no idea. Though I was terrified you’d laugh in my face.”

I smiled. “Do you want me to do that now? ’Cause I could if you like. Just to make you more comfortable …”

He laughed and pulled me closer to him. “Can you think of any reason why we should stay in here rather than finding somewhere more private?”

I looked around vaguely. I could see Charlotte and Remus with Peter and Fortuna at the bar, and Mary and Sebastian in a far corner having a snog. Good luck to them, I thought, smiling: Mary was having a good night. Lily and James were cozied up on the dance floor, seemingly engrossed in each other until Lily looked up and caught my eye and, taking in the sight of Sirius and me, directed James’ attention to us and beamed. This clearly wasn’t a surprise to her – somewhere in the back of my mind it registered vaguely that it must have been me she’d been talking about after all. Martha and Davey were nowhere to be seen. It looked like no one would miss us.

“None whatsoever.”

“Good. Neither can I.” And he led me back out of the hall and up the marble staircase, only to stop at the top and turn to me again. “Now, are you sure you want to do this?”

I stared back at him, surprised. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because you’re not allowed to,” he said, as though it was obvious. “Didn’t your dad say no boyfriends this year?”

“Oh, that. No. Well, yes, he did, but I think I can ignore that if I want to, don’t you?”

He smiled briefly. “You’re sure about that? I don’t want to make you do anything you’ll regret later.”

“Absolutely sure,” I said. “Rule? What rule?” And I pulled him towards me to kiss him again, probably enjoying it just that little bit more now he’d reminded me it was forbidden.

Eventually we settled in an empty classroom on the third floor, one in the middle of the castle so there were no windows to let in an icy draught, and well away from the ghosts who appeared to be having their own party in the dungeons. Sirius found a sturdy chair and sat down on it, pulling me on to his lap, and started running his lips along my jawline, then down my neck and along my exposed shoulder, his breath warm against my skin.

I wasn’t sure what I had expected, but it wasn’t this. This was nothing like Bertram: he was being the perfect gentleman. He touched only the most chaste parts of me, but he just about reduced me to a swoon anyway. He had this thing where he massaged me underneath my hair at the nape of my neck, and it was unbelievable how a simple kiss on the inside of my elbow could make me feel. I kept on the theme and focused my attention on his face, neck, shoulders, wrists and hands. It was far more intimate than I would have expected and incredibly erotic.

The chaste theme also had some unexpected side effects. At one stage he even apologised for brushing my breast with his hand, and I almost fell off his lap in surprise. Since when did a boy say sorry for that? I was more used to it being the first thing they reached for. I asked why he was apologising.

“I think we should take this slowly,” he said. “Enjoy each stage as much as we can before moving on to the next. And we’ve only just started the first one.”

I had felt like I was almost ready to jump him then and there but I could see his reasoning. After all, we had plenty of time, we could do this properly. Though through his robes I could tell not all of him thought that was a good idea.

“All right,” I said. “Slowly it is.”

“And you’ll tell me if you’re ever not comfortable, won’t you?” he said, looking almost anxious.

“Of course I will.”

He smiled. “Good.” And he picked up my wrist, gave it a bit of a rub with his thumb and brought it up to his mouth.

Eventually, realising it was very late and the ball was long over, we reluctantly made our way up to Gryffindor Tower. There were still a few stragglers in the common room who looked at us with surprise as we climbed through the portrait hole arm in arm, and Sirius didn’t let go of me until I was three steps up the staircase to the girls’ dorms. I leaned over the banister to kiss him one more time before regretfully making my way up to bed.

I was the last one into the dorm. Inside, Charlotte was lying on her bed crying angry and confused tears. It seemed she and Remus had been getting along famously until he apparently got cold feet. “I thought it was actually happening. He kissed me, and it was wonderful, and then he stopped suddenly and had this horrible apologetic look on his face. And he said, ‘I’m really sorry, but I can’t,’ and ran away.” She hiccoughed uncomfortably. “What did I do wrong? Am I that bad a kisser?”

“I’m sure it’s not that,” Lily said, giving Charlotte a hug. “Maybe he doesn’t know what he wants.”

“It’s not fair,” she said. “You’ve got James, and you” – she looked at Mary – “have got Sebastian, and you” – she looked at me – “have apparently got Sirius. And the only one I want is Remus, and he won’t have me. And he was giving me such mixed signals all night, I don’t know what I’ve done.”

“If it’s any consolation,” Martha said, “I’ve got no one too. Davey and I have come to the conclusion we weren’t a particularly good match.”

“But we _were_ a good match!” Charlotte wailed. “And he thought so, too, otherwise why would he have kissed me like that?”

None of us could explain it; we were all as baffled as she was. I was sure Remus did fancy her, but that meant his behaviour was even more mystifying. Though, to be honest, I was having trouble concentrating on her problem, as my mind was somewhat preoccupied with what had happened to me that night.

Lily had noticed it. “Oh, Laura, don’t feel guilty,” she said, giving me a smile that seemed a little too understanding. “No one here is seriously expecting you to be paying us the slightest bit of attention.”

Martha was laughing. “You know, I really didn’t see that one coming. Mary and Sebastian, yes, but not you two.” Mary gave us a bit of guilty grin from her bed.

“You can’t have been paying attention, then,” Lily snorted, though she was still smiling. “I’ve thought it for months.”

“A’ leas’ we now know what tha’ snowball figh’ thing this afternoon was aboot,” Mary said. “Exac’ly what it looked lik’, after all.”

“Not that any of us actually saw you once you stopped dancing,” Martha went on, looking at me. “You just disappeared without a trace. We had to rely on Lily to find out what had happened.”

I smiled. “We wanted to get away from the crowds.”

“Goo’ thinkin’,” said Mary. “McGonagall came o’er an’ physically broke Seb an’ I apar’. Said I wasn’ conducting myself in a manner befittin’ a member o’ Gryffindor Hoose and woul’ I min’ bein’ more discree’ in future.” She started giggling.

Charlotte laughed, and for the first time since I’d got inside the dorm her eyes were almost dry. “For goodness sake, Mary, what exactly were you doing?”

“Jus’ snogging,” Mary said with a shrug. “We might have bin gettin’ a bi’ enthusiastic, I’m no’ really sure. I ferge’ where we were up t’ when she interrupted us. Anyway, we jus’ wen’ ootside and carried on oot there an’ all.”

I took Lily’s advice and opted out of the conversation, trying to relive everything that had happened since those first moments by the greenhouses. And those most agreeable thoughts occupied my mind until I eventually drifted off to sleep.

****

I woke up the next morning wondering if it had all been a dream. Surely I couldn’t have been so lucky as to catch Sirius’ eye? I had to have imagined it, I thought, not really daring to think otherwise in case I was wrong. Lily, however, soon cleared the matter up for me.

“You go in first,” she said with a smile as we lined up for the shower, waiting for Mary to finish. “You want to get downstairs to Sirius, don’t you?”

I looked at her gratefully, not only for the offer but for the confirmation it had in fact all been real. I hadn’t imagined being kissed like that, being held like that, feeling his breath on my cheeks. It had actually happened. And I think I showered and dressed in record time in my eagerness to get down to the common room.

Of course, soon enough I experienced the downside of dating someone like Sirius. The Great Hall erupted into whispers when we walked in for breakfast, hand in hand. I caught snippets of conversations as we went past – “Don’t know what he sees in her” … “It’ll never last, they’re too different” … “Who is she, do you know?” … “Do you think it was a love potion?” It didn’t really surprise me – like I’d noted before, someone like him getting a new girlfriend was absolute bread and butter for the gossips of the school – but it was something that would take some getting used to.

“Ignore them,” Sirius said, squeezing my hand as we sat down at the Gryffindor table. “They’ll stop eventually.”

“I’m not really used to being the centre of attention,” I said, feeling distinctly uncomfortable as my hair went bright blue before my eyes. I pulled out my wand and changed it back to its original colour, hoping Sirius hadn’t noticed.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll scare them off.” He glared over his shoulder at the girls I supposed were responsible for the spell. “Anyway, they’ll forget all about it over the holidays.”

He was good as his word, too – he barely left my side all morning, leaving me only when I had go into the dormitory to pack my suitcase for the journey home for Christmas. By the time we clambered onto the Hogwarts Express together just before eleven o’clock the whispers had gone, at least while I was in earshot.

Lily beamed at us as we found our seats. We were running a bit later than everyone else, having stopped for a quick snog before heading to the horseless carriages and, as is usually the case with new couples, it ended up going slightly longer than anticipated. Lily, James and Remus had been about to head to the prefects’ carriage for their official duties, but they stopped for a moment as we arrived.

“Saved you a seat, Padfoot,” James said, paying absolutely no attention to the half dozen members of the fan club who were hovering outside the compartment and glowering at me. “We figured you two would only need one between you.” We opted to ignore his smirk, but he was pretty much spot on anyway.

Peter laughed, but Remus didn’t. “Give him a break, Prongs, he’s waited long enough. Just let him enjoy it for a day or so before you get stuck in.”

Peter stopped laughing. “Just why did it take so long, anyway? That’s not like you, Padfoot, you’re normally pretty quick off the pitch.”

James grinned as he pulled down the blind in the compartment door, blocking us from the corridor outside. “He was terrified she’d say no, weren’t you, mate?”

Sirius was looking distinctly embarrassed, and I suspected he would have preferred the conversation take a different turn. I however was rather curious about it all, so decided to let it continue.

“Well, yeah,” Sirius mumbled. “I had no idea what you thought of me,” he added, looking at me, “so I had to try to win you over.”

“Win me over?” I was flabbergasted. “No you didn’t. If anyone _didn’t_ need winning over, that was me.”

“But I didn’t know that,” he said. “Every time I came near you, you made some excuse and ran away. I thought sometimes I was your absolute last choice.”

It had never occurred to me he might have seen it like that, and I suspected that fact was plainly displayed on my face from everyone’s reaction. Lily and James were laughing so hard they had tears in their eyes, Remus had a look on his face that said ‘I told you so’, and Peter appeared to have just accidentally snorted his pumpkin juice.

Sirius was looking confused. “Well, am I wrong?” he asked. “What did I have to go on?”

Lily dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. “You could have asked someone. I’ve known Laura fancied you since, ooh, last June at least.”

“You have?” I asked, distracted. Clearly I wasn’t as good at hiding things as I’d thought.

“Of course,” she said. “You were trying so hard not to let it show it wasn’t hard to catch on. And I already suspected he fancied you, I first thought that when you were still with Bertram. Anyway, if something didn’t happen last night, James and I planned to lock you two in a broom cupboard for a couple of hours, didn’t we?” She and James shared a smile. “Though from the look on your face, Sirius, when she came down the stairs last night, I thought it probably wouldn’t come to that.”

Sirius groaned, his cheeks rather pinker than usual. “Are you saying I’ve just wasted the last six months?”

“Pretty much,” Lily said.

“And you knew too?” he shot at James.

“Well, mate, Lily’s pretty perceptive,” James said. “She pointed out a few things that backed up her theory.”

Sirius glared at him. “And you didn’t mention this, why?”

“We tried,” said Remus. “You didn’t listen. You were too convinced she wasn’t interested.”

“It’s not worth worrying about,” I said. “It’s happened now.” And I leaned in and kissed him, trying to ignore the wolf-whistles and applause coming from our companions.

Before long James, Lily and Remus disappeared in the direction of the prefects’ carriage, leaving Sirius and me alone with Peter. To our great relief he took one look at us, still only taking up one seat in the corner of the compartment, and made some futile excuse before also disappearing, almost tripping over Elvira who was still camped outside in the corridor. I felt bad for forcing him out but we did relish the idea of a bit of privacy, especially considering the blinds were still down.

Of course it was over all too soon as our companions did return eventually, claiming they had stayed out for as long as was humanly possible. Checking my watch, I was surprised to discover they actually meant it – we’d had the compartment to ourselves for the best part of two hours, interrupted only by the trolley witch, but the time had flown by so quickly it felt closer to twenty minutes.

Once the train arrived in London – much too soon as far as I was concerned – I quickly scanned the crowd from inside the carriage, looking for my parents. “I don’t see them,” I said, leaning over to try to see more of the platform, “but that doesn’t necessarily mean they’re not here.”

“Well, why wouldn’t they be here?” Sirius asked.

“Mum,” I said. “She gets a bit overwhelmed with all the magic on the platform so they usually wait for me on the other side of the barrier. However, if I assume they’ve done that …”

“They’ll be just outside the compartment door when you get out,” he finished for me.

“Exactly,” I said, still searching the crowds for them. “The day I walk off the train holding your hand is the day they break with tradition and come in to find me.”

“What would they do?”

I shrugged. “Good question. I haven’t actually gone against them like this before so I don’t really know. But I’m not sure I want to find out.”

Ever cautious, I stepped out onto Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters alone, Sirius a couple of people behind me, and juggled my suitcase and Cerridwyn’s cage as I searched fruitlessly for my parents. Eventually, I decided they weren’t there after all.

“The coast’s clear,” I said, going over to where Sirius was waiting for me. “They’re not here.”

“Excellent,” he said, putting his own suitcase down next to mine so he could wrap his arms around me. “Then I assume we can do this?” And he leaned in and kissed me again.

“This is going to be awful,” I murmured in between kisses. “Three weeks apart. I don’t think I’ll be able to do it.”

“Why do you think I’m making the most of this now? I’m grabbing every last second that I can with you.”

Finally we broke apart, realising there were only a couple of dozen people still on the platform so it would look very suspicious if we stayed much longer. Grabbing my suitcase and reaching into my robes for an owl treat for Cerridwyn, who was hooting dolefully at me, I turned to Sirius again.

“Will you write to me?”

“Of course. And if I can wrangle a way to see you, I’ll do that too.”

I got up on my tip toes and kissed him again. “I can’t wait.” And with that, I very reluctantly made my way through the barrier.

Mum and Dad were looking anxiously at the wall between Platforms Nine and Ten as I emerged, dragging my suitcase and owl cage. “Sorry I’m late!” I said, racking my brain frantically for an excuse.

“What happened?” Dad asked. “We were about to go in and look for you. Your mother’s on call, we shouldn’t take too long in case she needs to go in.”

_Phew_ , I thought, _that was close_. Good thing I’d come out when I did. “Sorry, I didn’t realise,” I said. “My suitcase got stuck,” I went on, putting it on the floor next to me so Dad could carry it. “We couldn’t get it down from the luggage rack, we think it must have got hit with a jinx of some sort. I had to find one of the porters to help get it out.”

“And that took all that time?” Mum asked, her eyebrows hovering somewhere near her hairline. “Mary came out ten minutes ago.”

I shrugged, noticing out of the corner of my eye that Sirius had, after waiting for a suitable amount of time, also left the platform. “They were getting everyone else’s things out first, I couldn’t find one for ages,” I invented. “And then he needed to work out how to reverse the hex before he could get it down. It took a while. Sorry, I should have got Mary to let you know. She does have a new boyfriend, though, so she may have forgotten anyway.”

“Well, at least you made it through eventually,” Dad said. “So, are you ready? Let’s go home.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also known as, the about bloody time chapter.
> 
> For those who were wondering, as this is a coming of age story rather than a straight-up romance, we still have six months to go, as I'm finishing this at the end of their schooling. And I have quite a lot up my sleeves to cover in that time. :)
> 
> cheers Mel


	38. Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To no one's surprise, Sirius works out a way they can see each other over the holidays.  
> Warning: contains fluff.

I spent much of that Christmas break alone in my room, quietly bouncing off the walls. I couldn’t tell my parents what had happened, what with the no-distractions-during-NEWTs rule, and Bea wouldn’t have cared, so I had to resort to a combination of frequent letters to Mary and lying back on my bed, daydreaming and losing myself in some very agreeable memories of Sirius – his arms around me, his breath on my skin and his tongue in my mouth. Though every now and then I just sat there in astonishment I would have memories like that at all, that it wasn’t just daydreams, that it had actually happened.

Sirius hadn’t been kidding – he did write to me. Every day, and sometimes more than once. Occasionally it was just a scrap of parchment that said something like _Miss you_ , but usually it was rather more substantial as we tried to figure out a way we could see each other as quickly as possible, and I was very grateful owl post didn’t cost by the message because I was no lighter on the quill than he was. I hadn’t realised it was possible to miss someone that much, though I recognised it was probably due to the length of time we’d been together juxtaposed with the length of time we now had to spend apart more than any real closeness. It was better when he was at the Potters’ house in Somerset as it was much nearer, but when he was at home in London it could take a day or two to get a response. A couple of times I even had to borrow Dad’s owl, Koukou, as Cerridwyn hadn’t returned in time.

“You do seem to be getting a lot of mail these holidays,” Mum said one morning as Cerridwyn flew through the kitchen window and landed on my shoulder, a bit of parchment with Sirius’ handwriting on it tied neatly to her leg.

I shrugged, hoping my cheeks were their usual colour. “I do have more friends now, remember?” I said, on the off chance this would be enough. “It’s not just Mary writing to me now.”

Mum smiled – she liked the thought of my being popular. “Well, those new friends must be keen correspondents, that’s all I can say. You’re getting two or three letters a day sometimes.”

Oh. She was right, it was probably more than normal in that situation. I racked my brains to come up with something that sounded believable. “Just comparing homework notes. We’ve got a lot we need to get through before we go back to school, so we’re all helping each other out.” I detached the letter from Cerridwyn’s leg and let her fly back outside.

“I remember what that was like,” Bea said, surprising me by backing me up. “Seventh year’s a cow, really. What assignments do you have?”

Right. Of course. She hadn’t been backing me up, she’d been digging me a hole. Now I had to think about schoolwork, which I really didn’t want to do. After all, I had much more agreeable things to occupy my thoughts.

“Transfiguration,” I said quickly, trying frantically to remember what we had in fact been set. “Animagus transformations – theory only of course, she doesn’t expect us to be able to do something like that by the time we get back.”

“Of course,” she said, leaning forward enthusiastically and knocking over her egg-cup (complete with soft-boiled egg) in the process. “That was really fascinating, and obviously she marks it pretty hard because she can do it herself so she knows what she’s on about. Don’t forget to take effects on the human form into account, there’s usually some sort of lingering residue from the transformation, and when we did it not everyone picked up on that so there were some bonus marks given. That’s worth remembering.”

I was only vaguely paying attention, though I recognised Bea was most probably giving me some quite useful tips for that particular assignment. I was, however, distracted by the letter I hadn’t yet opened, dying to see what he’d written this time.

A welcome interruption came in the form of the phone ringing, and Mum went to answer it. Within a minute she was looking terse and Bea and I looked at each other and groaned.

“Right. Okay, thanks, I’ll be there as soon as I can,” Mum said into the receiver. She hung up and turned to us. “That was work,” she said redundantly – we’d already worked that much out. “They’ve found some people – Muggles – who have turned up halfway to Bath with no idea of who or where they are. Looks like they might have been cursed or something. I have to go check it out.”

“Will Dad be there too?” Bea asked.

Mum shrugged. “Depends on how bad the damage is. We’ll probably need some Obliviators there, though – hopefully your Ministry has been told already so we don’t have any delays.” She was moving quickly around the kitchen as she spoke, grabbing her purse and keys and shoving them into her handbag. “I’ll be back as soon as I can,” she said over her shoulder. “Good luck with the homework, Laura!”

_Well, that was a nice escape_ , I thought, clutching my letter tightly in my hand and picking up my cup of tea with the other. “I’m going back upstairs,” I told Bea. “Need to get this assignment done, you know?” And without waiting to hear if she answered or not, I hurried up to my room and closed the door so I could devour my letter.

> _Dear Laura_
> 
> _Well, I’ve worked it out. Working around what you’ve already said about family obligations, I can get to Bristol on the Friday before Christmas, so if you can think of an excuse (Christmas shopping, perhaps? I’m sure you’ll think of something) we can maybe meet up then? You know the area better than I do so you can nominate a spot, but somewhere out of the way would be good, don’t you think? Because I don’t think I can last another day without seeing you, or at least knowing I can see you soon. I need something to look forward to that’s closer than the train trip back to school._
> 
> _Please write back as soon as possible and tell me if it might work out. December 23 rd isn’t that far away so if I knew we could get together then, that’d be fantastic. And you can talk me through the security systems you’ve got in place so I can know for sure you’re safe._
> 
> _Sirius_

This last bit was unnervingly common in his letters. Dad, although a pure-blood, was seen as a blood traitor because of his work and marriage, and Mum was a Muggle, so Sirius was concerned in case any of us became targeted by the Death Eaters. I had the feeling he would come to Bristol in a second if I gave any hint of any sort of trouble whatsoever, and while I was dying to see him again I didn’t want to risk my parents’ wrath, so I put a lot of effort into trying to convince him our home was safe and I wasn’t doing anything that would put me in danger.

And so it was that two days before Christmas I told my parents I was off to do some last minute Christmas shopping – a front for a clandestine day with my new boyfriend. Oh how I loved calling him that: it made all the months of suffering worthwhile. It had taken a good half an hour to convince Mum I would be safe enough if I kept to Muggle areas – the war hadn’t really hit Bristol yet, despite the Muggles half way to Bath who had indeed needed their memories to be modified – but fortunately in the end she agreed. Sirius and I arranged to meet at the city museum and art gallery, which was open but almost guaranteed to be deserted as most of the Muggle population was doing exactly what my parents thought I was doing.

He was already there when I arrived, leaning against the front of the building, looking amazing in a dragon-skin jacket, dark red jumper and jeans. I’d come feeling almost an impostor – what if I turned up and he said it was all a mistake? – but when he saw me he came straight over to me, kissed me deeply and held me so tightly I thought my ribs might crack. _Okay_ , I thought, _it wasn’t a mistake. I didn’t dream it. This is real._

“I missed you,” he said between kisses. “It’s far too long since I saw you.”

“I missed you too,” I said, holding him just as tight as he was holding me and savouring the taste he had left in my mouth. Eventually we parted and he put his arm around my waist as we went upstairs to the gallery to find a nice out-of-the-way spot where we could catch up properly and without interruptions.

“You know, you really are lovely,” he said, standing back to get a full view of me. “I can’t believe it took me five and a half years to realise it.”

“Six and a half,” I corrected him automatically.

“What?”

“We’ve been at school for six and a half years.”

He grinned. “Ah, but I noticed after five and a half,” he said. “It just took me forever to get up the guts to tell you. Oh, and that reminds me …” He pulled a package out of his pocket and pressing it into my hand. “This is for you. Merry Christmas.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” I said.

“Yes I did. I bought this ages ago, in the hope it might be appropriate to give it to you at some point.”

I unwrapped the package, revealing a flat box about one by five inches. Opening it, I saw a gold bracelet, delicate yet bold, boasting a single daffodil charm. Clearly goblin-made, it was one of the most stunning things I’d ever seen.

“It’s beautiful!” I gasped, awestruck. “Exactly what I would have chosen if you’d asked me to pick one. But it must have cost you a fortune!” I looked up at him, angry yet pleased he would spend so much on me.

He smiled, ignoring the cost jibe. “I knew you’d like it. After I saw how much you liked the cla– “ He stopped, checking himself.

“The what?” I asked. “The clasp?” He nodded mutely. “That was you?” I fingered the item in question which was as always attached to my clothing.

Wordlessly he got out his wand and, tracing the air, drew with fire the strange symbol on the back of the clasp. The one I had assumed was a goblin mark. I saw now it was his initials superimposed over each other – SOB – in an elegant script. “You’re not angry with me?”

“Of course not!” I said, giving him a hug and reaching up to kiss him on the cheek. “Why would I be angry with you? I love it! But how … why …” I trailed off, not exactly sure what I was trying to ask.

“I bought it for you for your birthday,” he said, his arms back around me. “I was in Hogsmeade and Clio and I had had a fight, so I went off to get things ready for the party. Bought some Firewhisky and a few cases of butterbeer to be collected later, that sort of thing, so that was one less thing to organise. And I was going to get you something small, you know, a token, since you were having a joint party with Moony and it would be rude not to, but I didn’t know you that well so I dropped into that jeweller’s. Thought I’d get some earrings or something, I wasn’t sure.”

He paused, watching my face. “And then I saw the clasp and I just knew you would love it, and before I knew what I was doing I’d bought it and was having it inscribed. So that was that. Until on the way back to school I realised I’d just spent more on you than I had on Moony, and way more than I’d spent on Clio for Valentine’s Day, and it might not be appropriate to give it to you since I was with Clio – or not, we’d just broken up – and you were with Aubrey. And I couldn’t hold on to it or take it back ’cause it’d been engraved, and anyway I knew I wanted you to have it. I couldn’t have said why, but I did. So I sent it anonymously.”

I kissed him again. “And I loved it!”

He smiled again, somewhat ruefully this time. “You could have fooled me. You didn’t wear it for weeks; I thought I’d completely misjudged you and what you liked. And then we had the Easter holidays and I didn’t see you for a fortnight, and suddenly I realised why it had felt so important to give it to you, but you were still with Aubrey so I was jealous as hell. I thought if he’d given it to you, you would have worn it for sure, like you did with that awful cloak.”

“Didn’t you know?” I asked, surprised. “Because it was anonymous, we took it to McGonagall to get it checked for jinxes. I’d been identified as a target, apparently. It took ages to get it back.”

“Is that all?” he asked. “And here was me, imagining all sorts of things. I even thought Aubrey had told you not to wear it ’cause he didn’t give it to you.” He let go of me and started fastening the bracelet around my wrist. “Now this, I’ve had it sized down a bit, your wrists are so tiny. Hope I got it right.” He finished, and I flung my arm towards the ground in an effort to dislodge the bracelet, to see if it would drop down over my hand. It stayed put.

“Perfect,” I said, unable to stop smiling. “But then again, so are you.”

****

After a couple of hours we wandered back outside into the cold December air to find somewhere for lunch. I wasn’t keen to spend too much time outdoors on the off chance I was seen by someone I knew, so we found a nearby pub and grabbed a table near the back of the room.

He smiled as we sat down. “Now, what would you like to drink? I hear there’s a micro-brewery around here somewhere …”

I shook my head. “I’m not eighteen yet, remember?”

“So?” He looked surprised. “Why would that matter?”

“Legal age for Muggles.”

He just winked at me. “Laura, why do you think Confundus Charms were invented?” He stood up. “Lager then? I’ll be right back.”

A minute or so later he returned, beaming at me and carrying two pints of lager and a couple of menus. “This has taken far too long to happen,” he said, handing me a drink. “You and me. We could have had months already. If only I’d realised!”

“And if only I had too,” I said, grabbing his hand and squeezing it. “It never even occurred to me I had a chance, though, not realistically. I mean, half the school was after you. What chance was there that you’d even look at me?”

“Why wouldn’t I look at you?” he asked. “You’re gorgeous. But you didn’t pay me any attention. I tried just about everything I could think of and nothing worked.”

I stared at him, surprised. “You did?”

“Of course I did,” he said, sounding frustrated. “I tried to ask you to Hogsmeade, but you already had plans. I stalked you after Ancient Runes, and that bloody giggler jumped on me. I even got you alone under the mistletoe one night, but then Peeves put an end to that.” He shook his head, taking a sip of his lager. “You wouldn’t even give me a kiss on my birthday. I thought I had no chance.”

“Your birthday? But you were so drunk that night, I didn’t think you knew what you were doing. I didn’t want you to wake up the next morning and regret anything.”

“Of course I was drunk,” he said like it was obvious. “It was the only way I was going to get the guts up.”

That didn’t make sense to me. “What, to ask people for a birthday kiss? Why would you need guts for that?”

He shook his head again. “I didn’t ask _people_ for a kiss. I asked _you._ And I had a phial of double strength Sobering Solution in my pocket in case you said yes. Geez, Laura, I wasn’t taking any chances with that. I had absolutely _no_ intention of screwing it up.”

I tried to remember that night. “Did you really not ask anyone else? I was so sure you had.”

“Nope. I asked you, and you pretty much ran in the opposite direction. And then telling me you didn’t care who I snogged – I thought you were trying to push me away. It’s one reason I kept putting off asking you to the ball. I was convinced you’d say no.”

Well, that didn’t make sense at all. “Why would I say no? I was starting to think I wouldn’t get a date at all.”

He laughed. “You? Without a date? No, that would never happen. I kicked myself when Carmichael got in first, but then you were always going to be snapped up. If not him it would have been one of the others.”

Now I was even more confused. “What others?”

“The other blokes who fancied you, of course. What, you don’t think it’s just me, do you? Carmichael, Dearborn, Williamson – and that’s just who comes to mind now. Even Moony was threatening to ask you out, though I think that was more his way of pushing me along a bit.” He paused. “What is it with you and prefects, anyway?”

“I have no idea,” I said vaguely, struggling to take in what he was saying. “You’re actually serious, aren’t you?”

He smiled mischievously. “Of course I’m Sirius.”

“Ha ha ha. But you know what I mean.”

“I do, and that’s exactly my point,” he said, more gravely this time. “You need to start realising how incredible you are. I remember spilling my guts once and telling you you were beautiful, and you thought I was humouring you.”

That confused me again. How could I have forgotten something like that? “You did? When?”

“Hogsmeade,” he said. “Months and months ago. You’d just broken up with Aubrey.”

“Oh, that.” I stared at him. “You _meant_ that? I thought you were just trying to be nice.”

He shook his head in mock exasperation. “Come on, Laura, do you really think I tell people they’re beautiful at the drop of a wand? Of course I meant it. You are beautiful, and you’re smart, and you’re funny, and you’re – well, you’re just about perfect. You just need to believe it.”

“Oh Merlin,” I said, shaking my head at my own behaviour. “I spent all of last term obsessing over you, absolutely convinced it could never happen. I was even making myself miserable because of it.”

“But why?” he asked. “I’m not that scary, am I?”

I smiled wryly and took a sip of my lager. “No, it’s not that. But I really didn’t trust myself around you. I thought that if you found out how much I fancied you you’d think I was just like Elvira.” I shuddered involuntarily – the idea that he might have not only rejected me but started avoiding me altogether had been enough to stop any thoughts I might have had in letting him know.

He looked surprised. “But I could never think you were like her. The two of you have nothing in common.” He paused, his brow furrowed a bit like he was thinking. “Well, species, perhaps, but thinking about it I’m not even convinced of that.”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I thought we had a lot in common. We were both borderline obsessed with you. Only difference was I didn’t want anyone to know. I mean, if you knew, and you didn’t fancy me, I would have been mortified, and you most probably would have stopped talking to me. And you can call me a coward if you like but I couldn’t handle that, I needed to have you around.”

He laughed. “Did you really think that? But that’s absurd. Assuming there could be a world where I didn’t realise how amazing you are, I might have been a bit uncomfortable, but I would never have stopped talking to you.” He kissed my hand gently, smiling at my incredulous look. “Think about it, how many of them have I ever been friends with?”

I thought about it. “None?”

“Exactly.” He smiled at me. “There’s a big difference between someone who actually knows you, and someone who has this idealised image of you that you couldn’t live up to even if you wanted to.”

“That makes sense,” I said, realising I was grinning from ear to ear. Actually, it was rather like the problem I’d had with Bertram. “And to be honest, before I really knew you I wasn’t interested in the slightest.”

“Which is fine by me. It means you’re more interested in what’s on the inside. Proof you’re nothing like Vablatsky.”

I smiled again. “Right.” Then something else occurred to me and I changed the subject. “By the way, what happened with Charlotte and Remus? Did he get cold feet or what?”

He looked a little uncomfortable. “Yeah, kind of. That’s not really for me to say, though, he hasn’t said I’m allowed to tell anyone. Not even you.”

“Oh, right,” I said. “I’m guessing that would be one of those rules you lot have, then, wouldn’t it.”

He looked surprised. “You know about those?”

“Only that they exist. I don’t really get what they are, but it’s clear you’ve got, I don’t know, a code of conduct or something that you all stick to.”

He chuckled. “Well, that’s one way of looking at it. Yes, you’re right. In this case, answering that question in any detail would be breaking a confidence. And I can’t do that.”

“Of course not,” I said. “Well, then, I won’t ask you anymore.”

He looked pleased. “Now,” he said, changing the subject, “talk me through the defences you’ve got set up at home …”

After a rather delicious pub roast complete with vegetables and Yorkshire pudding, and I had finally convinced him my father’s precautions for our house and family were good enough, we found a quiet corner in an out-of-the-way place and picked up where we had left off earlier. I cast an Impervius Charm on us to shield us from the snow that had started falling, and standing there in his arms I felt absolutely blissful. There could not have been a more perfect day.

Eventually we broke apart, uncomfortably aware of the darkening sky. “I should be getting back,” I said, unable to wrench myself away from him. “Can we do this again?”

He started suddenly. “I almost forgot,” he said, pulling an envelope out of his jeans pocket. “This is for you. Party at Prongs’ place, for New Year’s. Tell your folks the whole year group’s been invited, kind of a final bash before school finishes. That is, they haven’t, but your family don’t need to know that. Come early and stay as long as you can.”

I took the envelope, smiling broadly. The Potters’ New Year’s party happened annually and half the school coveted an invitation, probably because it meant bringing in the new year with the two most popular boys in school, but obviously I had never been included before. I knew Lily had been invited every year since fourth year, but I was pretty sure this would be the first time she would accept. It was perfect, a brilliant excuse to see him again before we went back to school.

“Oh, and don’t forget these,” Sirius said, waving his wand and conjuring up some shopping bags. “You are supposed to have been doing your Christmas shopping today, after all.” Struck by his attention to detail, I took the bags.

“Good thinking.” It was just as well I’d already done all my shopping, as the bags would disappear after a few hours like all conjured items, but they would definitely do as cover for when I arrived home. I looked at him and, dropping the bags, put my arms around his waist underneath his jacket. “I don’t want you to go,” I said, sounding unnervingly like a small child.

“I don’t want to go either,” he said, returning the gesture and resting his forehead on mine, “but I don’t think we have a choice. Not unless you want daddy dearest to find out about us. And I’d see you safely home, but …” His voice trailed off, but I knew what he meant. Even showing up on my street was risky if we didn’t want to get caught.

“I know.” I reluctantly loosened my grip but put my hand to his face, where the beginnings of a five o’clock shadow were starting to appear around his cheek and jawline. He leaned in and kissed me, a gentle yet purposeful kiss that lasted somewhere between a few seconds and half an hour, I really couldn’t say.

“See you next week, then,” he said once we had finished. “Promise you’ll come.”

“I promise,” I said. “Dragons couldn’t keep me away.”

He smiled and Disapparated, leaving me standing in the snow with a pile of ‘shopping’. Smiling to myself, I followed his example, appearing in our back garden a second later laden with shopping bags.


	39. At the Potters'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laura and Sirius bring in the new year at James’ house, having a lovely time playing around with various types of machinery. And then there’s the morning after …

My nerves were jangling as I drove alone to the Potters’ house on New Year’s Eve. Fortunately their house in Somerset wasn’t too far from Bristol, and Mum was quite keen for me to get used to driving on country roads. It was close to two o’clock when I finally made it, having taken the occasional wrong turn in the narrow streets of a couple of market towns. One look at the house, however, told me it was worth the trip – an elegant Georgian manor set in a large garden with what looked like a wild-looking woodland just over the distant back fence. Not sure where to park, I left the car on the laneway outside and walked up the long drive, carrying my overnight bag.

James opened the door for me. “Laura!” he said, smiling. I saw Sirius bound up from behind him at my name, only to pull up abruptly as another voice took over.

“Make sure it’s really her, James.”

James made a face. “Dad. He wants me to check that you’re you and not someone impersonating you. So … um … where did you and Padfoot meet up last week?”

“Out the front of Bristol’s city museum and art gallery. Ten o’clock in the morning. On Friday.”

James turned around to look at Sirius, who nodded. “Okay, then, I believe you,” he said with a grin. “All yours, Padfoot.”

Sirius didn’t need telling twice. “Prongs is waiting for Lily, so we don’t want to keep him. And unfortunately you’ve missed lunch …” He took me aside and kissed me deeply.

“I missed you too,” I smiled when we eventually came up for air. “But I should hang out my dress robes for tonight. The trip took longer than I thought.”

“Later, later. You look gorgeous anyway. And I have to show you around and introduce you to your hosts.”

Mr and Mrs Potter were in the sitting room, watching us curiously. They were the couple I had noticed at Kings Cross earlier in the year and were definitely older than I would have expected James’ parents to be. My parents were in their mid-forties, but James must have been a late arrival – his parents were easily on the other side of seventy and may have been even older. Sirius took me in to meet them.

Mrs Potter was smiling broadly as her eyes went from Sirius to me. “We’ve heard so much about you,” she said. “Whatever you’re doing to Sirius, keep doing it – I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so happy.”

Mr Potter laughed. “Certainly is a pleasant change. Not like that time he showed up on Christmas Day covered in gashes and bruises, eh?”

I looked at Sirius questioningly, but he just gave me a bit of a squeeze.

“Didn’t he ever say, dear?’ Mrs Potter asked. “He showed up on the doorstep looking like he’d just had a duel with Voldemort himself, cuts and bruises all over him, dragging his trunk and with holes all through his robes. Just run away from home, poor dear, and needed somewhere to stay before they killed him.”

This was all news to me. I’d known he’d left home and come to the Potters’ to stay, but not that he’d been badly hurt in the process. I wasn’t about to admit that to James’ parents, though.

Mrs Potter went on. “Of course he was more than welcome here, he’s like a second son to us. But that independent streak – as soon as he could afford to go somewhere else he was off, said he couldn’t live on charity.” She shook her head admonishingly at Sirius. “I’ll say it again, you’re more than welcome.”

He looked a bit uncomfortable. “Thanks, Mrs P, but it didn’t feel right. I’ll still come over for Sunday lunch, though.”

Mrs Potter smiled indulgently at him. “He always was a bit troubled,” she said, lowering her voice. “Difficult family life. Between him and Remus, you’d never know anything personal about them, they just don’t talk about it. But, they know we’re always here for them …”

I looked around. “Where is Remus? I thought he was staying here.”

“Oh, he is,” Sirius said. “He’s not far off. He and Wormtail are just getting rid of a Boggart we found in the grandfather clock, that’s all. Scared the living daylights out of the house elf when he tried to clean it.”

“Yes I’m sure we’ll see them in a minute.” Mrs Potter winked at me. “Anyway it’s lovely to finally meet you, dear.”

Sirius took my arm and led me to the room Lily and I would be sharing so I could dump my bag. I looked at the twin beds and turned to him a little sadly.

“Charlotte hasn’t been invited, has she.” It wasn’t even a question, just an unwelcome reminder that not everyone’s life was going as well as mine was. I didn’t wanted to think about what it must have been like for her, sitting at home knowing Lily and I were here and she wasn’t, when at the start of the ball it had seemed so close. It would have been horrible.

Sirius shook his head. “Moony wasn’t comfortable,” he said, his tone making it clear this was all he would say. Whatever Remus’ reasoning was, the boys had built an impenetrable wall around it to keep it from the rest of the world.

I shook my head. “I just wish there was something I could do to help. I know I can’t, because I’m not allowed to know what it’s about, but I wish I could.”

He surprised me by laughing. “You know, I bet Moony wishes that, too. Hey, how did you get here? Did you Apparate, or what?”

“Drove. Mum wanted me to get the practice.”

His face lit up. “Drove? You mean, in a Muggle car? Brilliant! JAMES!” he shouted, “get up here, now!”

Moments later James appeared, followed by Lily (who had obviously arrived in the meantime), Remus and Peter. “What’s up, Padfoot?” James asked. “Aside from the usual, of course.” He grinned at Sirius, who looked a little uncomfortable.

“Never mind that,” he said, a wide grin forming on his face. “Guess what? Laura’s got a car here!”

James’ face lit up. “Really? But that’s fantastic! When are you teaching us to drive?”

Only seconds later I was traipsing out to Mum’s car, the boys all following happily. Lily opted not to join in the fun, instead deciding to spend some time with James’ parents in the hope she would leave a good impression. ( _Like she ever wouldn’t,_ I thought, but it was very like her to try to do the thing properly.) Not wanting to kill the engine in the narrow laneway, I asked if there was anywhere inside the grounds of James’ house where I could park to show them the basics.

“Absolutely,” said James. “This was a Muggle house once, there’s even a garage. I think they used it to park their chariots.” He grinned. “I’ll show you.” And he clambered into the front seat while Sirius, Remus and Peter squeezed into the back. I started the car and followed James’ directions, stopping eventually at a large garage behind the house where an enormous black motorcycle was already parked.

“I see I’m not the only one who came by Muggle transportation,” I said idly.

“Oh,” Sirius said, “that’s mine. But it’s not exactly Muggle transportation.” In the rear vision mirror I could see him smiling, while Peter and Remus laughed out loud.

“Do I want to know?” I asked with more than a little trepidation.

“It flies,” Peter said.

I had engaged the handbrake and was undoing my seatbelt, but this distracted me somewhat. “It what?”

“Flies,” said Remus, looking surprised. “He never told you about the bike?”

“Nah, they haven’t exactly been talking, have they?” said James, laughing, and Sirius and I went matching shades of red.

“How about we talk about the bike later,” I said. “Lily will most probably be done soon and she’ll be wondering why you’re not doing laps of the property already.” I looked pointedly at James, whose face immediately assumed its most serious expression.

“Right you are, Laura,” he said. “Now, how do we start this thing?”

I showed them the basics of starting a car, with accelerator, brake and clutch, and how to put it into gear, and they took it in turns trying to move forwards. Before long Lily did indeed come to join us, wrapped up in a heavy coat against the cold and laughing with me as Remus became the latest to bunny-hop a few yards. Lily hadn’t gone for her licence as she had passed her Apparition test and didn’t think it was necessary, but she knew enough about cars to be able to joke with me about how best to not blow up an engine.

Sirius grasped the fundamentals first, which wasn’t all that surprising if he knew how to operate a motorbike. In fact, I was getting the strong impression he could pretty much turn his hand to anything he attempted. James, on the other hand, was having all sorts of difficulties, which I found incredibly amusing considering he was top of everything at school.

“There’s too many things to think about,” he complained, jerking the car forwards as he tried to move on from a standing start. “How can you tell when the engine’s caught?”

I laughed. “And this from the man who can control a broomstick to within an inch of its life. Try to feel it through. The car gives the tiniest bit of a shudder, that’s when you ease off the clutch and lean on the accelerator to get moving.”

“And that’s before or after I release the handbrake?” he asked, his brow furrowed and his glasses slipping down his nose.

Peter too was having trouble, which I found rather funny as well considering he was a half-blood and therefore should be vaguely cognisant with Muggle concepts. “Which one’s the clutch again?” he asked, the sweat dripping off his nose as he tried to concentrate.

“Remember your alphabet, Wormtail,” Sirius called, grinning. “ABC. Accelerator, brake, clutch. Surely even you should be able to remember that!”

Eventually they all got the hang of starting up and moving, and Sirius and James had even progressed to doing laps of the estate, getting up to third gear which I thought was a bit fast considering the amount of ice on the ground. After a couple of hours we called it a day, not a moment too soon as the snow started falling again almost immediately, obliterating even the tyre tracks we had just made.

“So, are you going to take us out for a spin tomorrow?” James asked eagerly.

“I dunno. You might learn some new words.” They all looked at me quizzically. “I swear when I’m driving,” I said. “A lot. Something to do with everyone else on the road being an idiot. I even taught my mum some new phrases, and she’s a copper.”

Sirius was looking curious. “I can’t imagine you swearing.”

I smiled. “Got a lot to learn, then, haven’t you?” The other boys laughed. “Anyway, we wouldn’t all fit in the car. There’s six of us and only five seats. And you blokes aren’t exactly pixies.”

“Undetectable Extension Charm?” Remus suggested.

“Can you do those?” I was pretty sure I couldn’t, we hadn’t got to them in Charms yet and I’d never attempted one.

James looked at Sirius. “Padfoot?”

He shook his head. “Never got around to practicing that one,” he said. “I can give it a go, but normally I need a few tries.”

Unfortunately, after a few attempts neither I, Lily nor Sirius could cast the spell correctly, so instead we trundled inside for hot chocolate.

We dried ourselves off with hot air charms and settled ourselves in the sitting room, where afternoon tea had already been served. Lily immediately busied herself with handing out mugs.

“Have you enjoyed tearing up the garden?” Mrs Potter asked with a wink. “I never realised a car could toss up so much sludge.”

I was overcome with guilt. “Sorry, Mrs Potter. I didn’t mean for us to do so much damage.”

“Nonsense, dear,” she smiled. “It’s nothing we can’t fix. Driving’s probably a good skill for you all to have anyway.”

“Yes, much more practical in real terms than a flying motorcycle,” Mr Potter said, his eyes flicking to Sirius.

Sirius grinned. “That’s practical. James and I got an Outstanding on that assignment!” I looked at him, baffled, but he just winked and said, “I’ll explain later.”

He took me out on the bike straight afterwards, casting Disillusionment Charms on us and the bike to ensure no one would see us. I steeled myself for the ride – I’d never been on a motorcycle before, flying or not.

The bike was so huge I needed help to get onto the pillion seat but once there, sitting behind him with my arms around his waist, I felt quite safe, even when he revved up the engine and took off at great speed down the drive. We were almost at the gate, which I noticed belatedly was closed, when the bike took off and we were flying above the Somerset countryside, going as far as the coast twenty-odd miles away before doubling back. It was the most enormous adrenaline rush, soaring up there higher and faster than any broomstick, feeling the bike beneath us pumping away, the wind in our hair and the ground disappearing beneath us. Much better than my old Nimbus One Thousand and One, no matter how many charms I’d put on it. A broom just didn’t compare.

It was almost dark when we landed back at the Potters’ house and Sirius helped me climb off. “How was that?”

“Amazing. Exhilarating. Unbelievable.” I was on such a high it seemed anything else would be a let-down.

He grinned with apparent relief. “It’s running pretty well. I’ve been working on it for ages. There are still a few chinks that need ironing out, and I’m thinking of adding a few features, but it’s going okay. Got me here from London without any problems in any case, so I was pretty confident you’d be safe on it.”

“How long have you had it?”

“About a year. I got it last Christmas holidays. Picked it up for a song ’cause the engine was stuffed and the paint-job was pretty awful. Prongs was helping me fix it up.” He laughed suddenly. “We had to do a project for Muggle Studies where we picked a Muggle mechanical object and explain how it worked. Well, this was our project. That was what I was talking about before.”

I was still smiling. “Right. A project that has the added benefit of being a really really cool method of transport.”

“Plus my parents would have _hated_ it,” he said with a grin. “Motorised Muggle transport? They’d have had a fit.”

I shook my head, in part at his parents’ hard-line stance, and in part in disbelief he’d actually made a motorcycle fly. “And there was James last summer, saying me being able to drive was cool. Now I feel like he was taking the mickey.”

Sirius gave me a hug. “It _is_ cool. Driving a car is definitely cool, ’cause you can drive other people around then. The bike only has room for one extra. Which I think will be you, from now on.”

“I can’t wait,” I said. “That really was indescribable.”

He laughed. “Excellent. We’ll turn you into an adrenaline junkie yet.”

****

The sun had well and truly gone down when we headed back inside to prepare for the evening’s festivities. I showered and changed into my dress robes, which I’d borrowed from Mary and were olive green, fitted and, to my great relief, self-ironing. Once dressed I looked at myself in the mirror, wondering whether Lily would show up and help me do something with my hair to make it look even a little stylish. Unfortunately, though, she was (understandably) too busy with James and I had to rely on my own limited abilities, ending up leaving it down as I wasn’t able to pull off a French knot with any success. After all, the promised lesson with Martha on the train had never eventuated.

Finally I was satisfied with how I looked, and went back out into the passage in search of Sirius. I didn’t have to look very hard - he too had changed and was leaning on the wall by the door when I came out.

“Again she surpasses herself,” he said, stepping back to look me up and down. “You look beautiful. Even more so than normal, I mean.”

“You’re not too bad yourself,” I said. “You scrub up pretty well. Though that might just be because it makes you look even more like Stubby Boardman.” I was joking to try to compensate for how nervous I still was, because even then I couldn’t really believe he’d chosen me. And while it was true – he bore a remarkable resemblance to the lead singer of the Hobgoblins – saying it was a bit of a tease as we all knew he wasn’t always pleased with the comparison. Fortunately he took it in the way I’d intended.

“And that’s the only reason you’re with me, right?”

“Of course,” I said, blushing furiously. “Doesn’t every girl want to go out with a rock star?”

“Then I think,” he said, smiling wickedly, “that I need to persuade you otherwise.”

Well, that certainly sounded promising. _Memo to self_ , I thought, _teasing_ _him about Stubby Boardman has extremely agreeable results_. I put my arms around his neck and kissed him, not caring that we were in the middle of the first floor hall and anyone could come up and see us.

“So,” he asked a couple of minutes later, “are you persuaded?”

“I think so,” I said, absolutely caught up in the moment. “But I could do with some more …”

His eyes glinted. “Then maybe we should find somewhere a little more private, don’t you think?”

That prompted a rather unexpected tour of the house, where he showed me what the Potters still referred to as his room even though he no longer lived there, James’ room, another bedroom which Remus and Peter were sharing, the kitchen (featuring a very old-looking house elf pulling a roast almost as large as he was out of the oven), the sitting room, the drawing room, the dining room, the ballroom. Yes, James’ house even had a ballroom. No wonder his parents could afford to host a huge party every year in the middle of winter. And then Sirius took me back to his own room and we collapsed on the bed together, trying desperately to make up for the week we had been apart.

By the time we had disentangled ourselves and readjusted our dress robes, and I’d reapplied my lipstick, it was time to go down to dinner. Lily and James were already there, looking at each other adoringly, while Remus and Peter kept rolling their eyes at each other. Sirius and I found our place-cards opposite.

“Ah, you did make it back okay,” Lily said with a smile. “I hadn’t seen you since you took off earlier. But James said you were back and not to ask what you were doing, so I didn’t!” She looked fondly at James and he took both her hands in his and kissed them.

“Right, I think they’re out for the count,” Remus said with a grin as Lily and James kissed each other gently. “You’d think they’d be past that stage by now, but no.”

“I wish they would get past it,” said Peter, exaggerated revulsion in his voice. I noticed, however, that he didn’t stop watching them.

Remus laughed. “Don’t worry, Wormtail, you’ve got Padfoot and Laura here who’ll stay like that for a while yet.”

We were saved from responding by the arrival of dinner, which was a veritable feast. So much so that halfway through I started to worry my dress robes would end up a little tight, and Sirius might notice. I was still uncertain enough about the relationship to think that he might go off me if I put on a bit of weight, or even ate the wrong way, and I accordingly adjusted my food intake so even though I wasn’t starving, I wasn’t bursting at the seams either.

Finally the meal was over and the rest of the guests started arriving for the dance, which I was told would begin at nine o’clock and finish sometime after midnight. We as a group were the youngest attendees by a fair amount, not counting a few children who had been brought by their parents, and pretty much kept to ourselves in one corner of the room, nice and close to the punch bowl. It was in truth an event for adults rather than teenagers, and it struck me that if the kids at school knew what the party was really like they wouldn’t be nearly so eager for an invitation.

Before I realised how late it was getting, Mr Potter’s magically magnified voice echoed through the room. “Get ready, everyone, the countdown will begin shortly.”

The room became much more energised all of a sudden, as people rushed to the bar for more drinks so they could toast in the new year, and grabbed a partner they could kiss on the stroke of midnight. I noticed that rather than dancing properly, everyone was just revolving on the spot with their partner, waiting for the countdown and the band to play _Auld Lang Syne_. Finally, Mr Potter announced 1978 had arrived.

Sirius leaned in and kissed me. “Happy new year.”

“Happy new year,” I said, smiling.

He was smiling too. “You know, I think it will be.”

“So do I. Good times, great friends, and the man of my dreams. What more could I ask for?”

He looked pleased. “Am I really?”

“Like you need to ask. Of course you are. You have no idea.”

Still smiling, he bent his head until his forehead was resting on mine, and we revolved slowly together until the song ended.

We called it a night at about three o’clock although parting from Sirius even then, when we’d spent more than twelve hours in each other’s company without a break, was incredibly difficult. We stood outside the door of the bedroom I’d be using, kissing as though we would never see each other again, and it was with great reluctance that we eventually broke apart and I forced myself inside, knowing full well it would be hours before I would get to sleep.

I had pulled on my pyjamas and was lying awake in my bed – thinking about Sirius – when Lily came in to the bedroom and closed the door, her face the same colour as her hair. “Uh, Laura, you can keep a secret, right?”

“Of course,” I said, sitting up. “What’s up?”

She hesitated. “If I didn’t sleep in here tonight, you wouldn’t tell anyone, would you?”

I smiled, working out how long she and James had been together. Three months. It sounded about right. “Let me guess. James’ bed is big enough for two?”

She went even redder, if that was possible. “We don’t want anyone to know. But I do love him, and it’s such a good opportunity …” Her voice trailed off while my mind was going at a million miles an hour. Had she just said she loved him? That was news to me, she’d not let that one slip in the dorm yet. Maybe it was a new thing, or maybe it was personal enough not to want to share. I could understand why she might feel like that so I decided not to mention it.

“Don’t worry,” I said before she died of embarrassment. “I won’t say a word. Just try to get back in here early enough in the morning in case anyone spots you on the way down to breakfast.”

She threw a very relieved look at me. “Thanks. We’ll be very discreet, I promise.” And she gathered up her dressing gown and some stray clothes and hurried out of the room, casting a quick look up and down the hallway before disappearing from view.

****

The next morning I woke up full of enthusiasm for what the day ahead might hold. I wasn’t due home till after lunch, having told my parents it was customary to have a brunch the next day, and showered and dressed in record time so I could go and find Sirius.

Heading down the stairs, I heard the boys laughing together in the sitting room. Smiling a little, I made my way towards the sound.

“What you want, Wormtail,” James was saying, “is someone like Padfoot’s exes. You know, tits and arse and not much else.”

“Not just tits and arse,” Peter said. “They’ve also got –”

James cut him off. “Yeah, but they don’t let you near that, do they?”

_Boys_ , I thought. I knew I shouldn’t have been surprised by this line of conversation. And, well, as far as Sirius’ history went, Martha had guessed as much. I liked to think I was different, though, that this was different. Sirius had certainly given me that impression.

“Not Laura, though,” Remus said, confirming my thoughts. “She’s not quite like those other girls Padfoot dated, is she?” I smiled as I reached the doorway and stood watching them, all facing towards the fire and unaware I was there.

Peter chimed in. “Yeah, not much by way of tits there.”

Oh. So that was how they saw me. _Boys will be boys_ , _though_ , I thought, bracing myself, though I decided to step out of sight until the discussion was over. I figured they probably wouldn’t want this sort of thing overheard.

“We have always said that,” James said. “She is somewhat lacking in that department.”

Sirius laughed. “Look, you all know my thoughts on that. But then, she makes up for it in other ways.”

I froze. Was that all I was? Another conquest – and a flat-chested one at that. (And part of me bristled at that – yes, they weren’t huge, but they weren’t tiny either. I liked to think I was in proportion.) And then, _making up for it_ by what – shagging him? Was that what he was telling them? Trying to save face for having a girlfriend who didn’t even measure up to ‘tits and arse’? I didn’t know if I was more hurt or humiliated. And to think I had believed him when he’d whispered in my ear this was different …

I cleared my throat. “Thanks for that, boys,” I said coldly. “It’s so nice to know how well I’m regarded.”

They all turned around, clearly horrified I had overheard what they were saying. Sirius spoke first. “Laura!”

“I’ve heard enough,” I said, turning around to head back up the stairs.

He stood up and followed me. “What do you think I meant? Look, Laura, I think you’re making a mistake …”

Reaching the landing halfway up the stairs, I turned and faced him. “The only mistake I’ve made, Sirius, was trusting you in the first place. Now let me go and pack.”

He tried to get in front of me. “No. No, Laura, you’ve got it all wrong.”

I pushed past him and reached my door before turning to him again. “So that’s all this is to you? Tits and arse. Well, not even tits, by the sounds of things.”

“Of course not. And if you’ll just let me explain …”

“What, so you can go back to your friends and say you managed to sweet talk me around? I don’t think so.” I opened the door fiercely and stepped into the room before looking at him once more. “So that was the trade-off, was it? You act all gentleman-ly around me and say it’s due to respect and all that crap, when all the time you’re telling _them_ we’re shagging each other senseless. It’s not respect at all, is it? It’s more about bragging rights. And it’s not that you’re too good a person to feel me up, it’s because they’re so bloody small it’s not worth your while. Need a search party, do you? Or should I do an Engorgement Charm on them, would that make them more appealing? At least then I _would_ be ‘tits and arse and not much else’, instead of just being an arse for believing you in the first place!” And without waiting for a response, I slammed the door in his face and magically locked it.

Furiously, I packed my bag as quickly as I could, not wanting to spend another minute in that house. I felt absolutely humiliated. This was much worse than the embarrassment from the dance in fifth year, because this time I’d been stupid enough to think things were actually different. And Lily had perpetuated that myth – I’d have to think twice about whether she was really my friend any more, or just James’ girlfriend. Whose side was she on?

I could hear Sirius outside the room, thumping on the door and sounding furious himself. “Come on, Laura, just hear me out for Merlin’s sake! You’re jumping to conclusions!”

Once I’d packed, I opened the door again, obviously taking him by surprise by doing so. “About time you came to your senses,” he said, looking grateful I appeared to be ready to listen to him.

“Yes, I’ve come to my senses,” I said. “I’m leaving. Goodbye, Sirius.” And with that I Disapparated from the Potters’ house, appearing a moment later by Mum’s car in the lane outside the front gate. Not even looking back at the house, I got into the car, started the engine and drove away, barely even hearing Sirius’ voice call out from somewhere beyond the front gates, shouting my name.


	40. Back to school

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Broken hearted, Laura faces up to going back to Hogwarts and dealing with life without Sirius.

Not long afterwards I arrived home, tear-stained and exhausted. I’d had to stop a couple of blocks away to compose myself enough to stop Mum or Dad asking any awkward questions, and cast a passable Cheering Charm on myself, but I was still less than my usual sparkling self when I pulled into the driveway. And seeing the Potters’ owl waiting for me on the front steps, a note in Sirius’ handwriting attached to its leg, didn’t help.

“Is that you, Laura?” Mum called out as I let myself inside.

“Yeah, it’s me,” I said, hoping to be able to disappear upstairs before she saw me.

“You’re home early,” she said, poking her head around the corner and seeing my face. “Oh, Laura, what’s wrong?”

If you’ve ever had someone ask you that question when you’re trying to hold everything in, you’ll know it causes you to break down completely. In this case I just dropped my bag and burst into tears, and she rushed over to give me a hug.

“Careful,” came Dad’s voice. “We should make sure it’s actually her.”

“It’s her,” Mum said over my shoulder as I cried into her. “You think I don’t know my own daughter? And she’d never be able to answer any questions when she’s in this state, anyway.”

Dad conceded defeat, and once I’d calmed down a little Mum managed to coax a little bit of information out of me.

“I was made a fool of,” I said, hiccoughing uncomfortably. “I trusted someone I shouldn’t have and it backfired.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

_Definitely not_ , I thought. Instead I just shook my head.

“That’s fine,” she said, “whenever you’re ready. There’s a letter here for you, too. Is that anything to do with it?”

I shook my head again – it was easier to lie when I wasn’t talking. “I’d better go upstairs and answer it.”

_Or_ , I thought, _I’ll go upstairs, burst into tears again, and then send the letter back unopened_. I knew I didn’t want to know what he had to say, it was too soon and too painful. _To think you believed him_ , a voice inside my head chastised me. _You should have known it was too good to be true._

I gestured to the owl to follow me upstairs. Once in my room with the door shut, I pulled off my new bracelet and daffodil clasp, wrapped them in a bit of parchment and tied them to the owl’s other leg. “Take this and the letter back again,” I told it. “And don’t bother coming back, I don’t want an answer.” Whether it understood me I had no idea, but once I opened my window it flew off anyway, probably back to James’ house.

The next week was torture. I’d written to Mary to explain what had happened, and while she was sympathetic she had her own new relationship that was occupying her attention, and I didn’t want to depress her with my problems. Charlotte would probably have understood, but while we were much closer than we had been, we still weren’t really close enough for me to pour my heart out in a letter to her. And as for Sirius, well …

He hadn’t even tried to follow me.

This fact tore at me more than anything else. I’d kept an eye on my rear vision mirror as I drove away from James’ house, hoping against hope he would try to coax me back, that the black motorbike would appear from nowhere and try to make me stop. But all I’d seen was a dog, probably a stray, which seemed to like the challenge of chasing the one car on the roads that early on New Year’s Day. Eventually, as I neared the motorway, even that had given up, its large black shape slowly disappearing behind me as I drove north.

_Shows how much you really meant to him,_ that annoying voice in the back of my mind kept pointing out. _If he’d really cared, he would have tried to stop you from leaving. He would have tried to get you to come back._ And I knew that was true, because it was what I would have done if the tables were turned. I would have tried anything I could think of to get him to change his mind. But all he did was write a short note – I knew it was short due to the size of the parchment attached to the Potters’ owl’s leg – and leave it at that.

Right, so perhaps that wasn’t fair. There were probably a dozen letters in the week between the party and school going back, but I didn’t read any of them; they were all sent back, unopened. Cerridwyn was probably sick of the journeys to Somerset and London by now, but whatever he had to say could wait. I couldn’t have read his letters, anyway – my tears would have bled the ink across the page before I could have got through it. The trouble was it had all felt so _real_ – more real than anything else in my life – and I was having difficulty coming to terms with the fact it wasn’t.

My parents, of course, realised something was wrong, but they weren’t very successful in getting any answers out of me, even with Mum at her police-officer best.

“Laura, is this about a boy?” she asked one night when she came into my room. “Is that why you’re not talking about it?”

“I’m not allowed to have boyfriends this year,” I said automatically, not looking at her. “I know the rules.”

“Something happened at that party,” Mum said, ignoring my answer. “You were unusually happy before it, and you’re unusually upset now, and all you’ve said is that you trusted someone you shouldn’t have. It looks to me like a broken heart.”

Well, that was uncomfortably accurate. When did she get so perceptive? “I’m fine,” I said. “I’ll be fine. I’d just rather be alone.”

“Hmm,” she said doubtfully. “I’ll bring a cup of tea up then, shall I?”

“Fine,” I said. “Now I need to get this homework done.” I looked pointedly at her and she left the room, closing the door gently behind her.

****

“Laura, can I have a word please?”

I looked up with dread as the train compartment door opened, but it wasn’t Sirius. It was, however, Remus, and I wasn’t sure how prepared I was for this conversation.

“Yeah, all right,” I heard myself saying. Might as well get it over with. Getting out of my seat and following him, I found myself in the roomy bit at the end of the carriage. “What is it?” I asked, trying to summon enough energy to sound interested.

“Padfoot,” he said. “Look, Laura, what happened? All we know is that you left in a huff, and he hasn’t said anything except he was a stupid idiot for letting you jump to conclusions, and you dumped him.”

“Like he cares,” I said bitterly. “He made it clear it wasn’t that important to him, anyway.”

“You’re kidding,” Remus said.

“I’m not. Like I said, he made it clear.”

“He can’t have,” he said. “I know Sirius, and there’s no way known he would have done that. And he’s downright depressed at the moment, he’s taking it really badly.”

“Right,” I said. “Whatever. All I know is that I was a fool to believe him and I’m better off how I was before.” And I turned away from him and went back to my compartment, pulling the blinds down as I got inside.

“What did he want?” Charlotte asked. She looked a little strained, and I realised Remus talking to me like that wouldn’t have been easy for her. I certainly wouldn’t have been comfortable if Sirius had stuck his nose in looking for a word with her.

“To talk about Sirius,” I said. “Which should explain why it was a very short conversation.”

I was sitting with Charlotte and Martha, Lily being busy with Head Girl duties and James, and Mary spending her time with Sebastian. I didn’t blame her for that – if Sirius and I were still together, I would have done the same thing, and the last thing she needed was me dragging her down with my tales of woe – and the other girls were perfectly happy to hold my hand for the duration of the train journey.

Martha kept trying to cheer us up by badmouthing both Sirius and Remus, trying to get us to say how awful they were (and in the process let off some steam), but she was met with a stony silence on both sides. I was heartbroken, yes, but I couldn’t bring myself to speak badly of him to other people, not even my fellow exes. Instead, we concentrated on the food we’d bought from the trolley witch, the passing landscape, and homework – just about anything that wasn’t male.

I couldn’t escape the gossip, though. Because Sirius and I had appeared separately on the platform, had occupied different carriages, and didn’t speak on arrival, it was impossible to ignore the whispers. “I knew it wouldn’t last” … “The amortentia wore off, did it?” … “I see he came to his senses …”

“Ignore them,” Charlotte said as she helped me to the Gryffindor table at supper that night, sounding uncomfortably like Sirius had done before the holidays. “It’ll stop soon enough.”

“Whatever.” I was having difficulty putting any effort into anything at all, and seeing Sirius at the same table didn’t help. He looked hopefully at me as I sat down, as though I might have been willing to hear him out, but I wasn’t ready to face him yet and turned away, and he moved onto ignoring me after that. He looked a little different – paler than usual, perhaps, with a bit of a closed look to his face – but he was still Sirius and having him there at all tore at my heart. I didn’t like the constant reminder of what I’d lost.

I barely ate that night. In fact, I barely ate all week. Lily cast a few Cheering Charms on me but even those didn’t have the desired effect, instead wearing off after quarter of an hour or so, though that may have had something to do with the fact I still wasn’t sure how much I trusted her. In any case, just getting to classes at all was a huge effort and I struggled to get my homework done, something which didn’t go down very well with Professor Flitwick.

“Not at all to your usual standard, Miss Cauldwell,” he said as he handed back a particularly bad Charms essay. “You seem to be losing your flair.”

“Yes, Professor,” I said. “I’m sure it will come back eventually.”

“For your sake, I hope it’s before final exams,” he said, and moved on to the next student. I realised dully that Dad had been right after all – distractions during NEWTs were a bad idea. Boyfriends especially.

As Flitwick left I turned to look at Sirius, hoping he didn’t realise he was the reason for everything, but from the look on his face I wasn’t convinced he was taking anything in at all. He was facing me, but he looked so blank that for a split second I considered waving a hand in front of his face to see if there would be any reaction. At least, I realised, he wasn’t getting any satisfaction from my despair. In that one sense, I was probably one up on Dione Turpin.

Martha wasn’t really helping, either, though she probably didn’t know she was doing it. In her case, it was more a matter of not thinking.

“What’s wrong with Sirius?” she asked as she came into the dorm one night, joining Lily and me in the room. Mary was out with Sebastian somewhere, and Charlotte was finishing off some Divination homework.

Lily glared at her and put a finger to her lips, pointing at me. “You know that, Martha.”

“Oh.” Martha shrugged as she flung her bag onto her bed. “Really, though? He’s like this over a break-up?”

“He’s like this over _this_ break-up,” Lily said, plainly trying to wordlessly get Martha to understand that, with me there, the dorm wasn’t the place to be discussing this.

“It’s all right,” I muttered. “You can talk about it. I have to get used to it anyway.”

“I must say I’m amazed,” Martha said. “I thought he must’ve been disinherited again or something, he’s really clammed up like he did in fifth year when he left home.”

Her words made me realise I hadn’t heard him talking all week. He’d come towards me on the train platform as though he wanted to say something, but I’d turned my back on him and concentrated on talking to Mum and Dad and he’d backed off, and then there was the attempt at contact on the first night at dinner. And that was it. I hadn’t noticed any interactions with anyone else at all, not even James. As the week wore on he’d even stopped looking after himself – more often than not hair not combed, face unshaven, robes dirty or haphazardly thrown on. It was like he had shut himself down, like he just didn’t care anymore.

“Well, he’s upset,” Lily said.

“Hmmm.” Martha looked at me. “How long were you together again?”

“About a fortnight,” I said. “Two weeks on, two weeks off, so to speak.” Together for a fortnight, broken up for a fortnight. And it still hurt like nothing else. I hated that he had this strong a hold on me; it just showed how stupid I’d been for getting that attached to him in the first place.

“Right.” Martha looked thoughtful before turning to Lily again. “You know, Lils, I think you might have been right. He did fall for someone.” She shook her head. “Too bad for him it didn’t work out, hey?”

“He’ll get over it,” I said bitterly. “It’s all an act. He didn’t really care, not that much. He made that perfectly clear.”

“Are you sure about that?” Lily asked. “Are you sure this whole thing isn’t just one big misunderstanding?”

“Oh yes, Lily,” I shot back. “I’m sure.”

****

My week improved a little on Friday when Bernie Carmichael approached me after Ancient Runes. “Um, Laura, can I have a word please?”

“What?” I was so immersed in my own little world that I’d forgotten other people even existed. “Oh, yeah. Sure.”

He cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Look, by all means tell me if I’m being too forward here, but I noticed you and Black seem to have broken up.”

“Big call, that one,” I said dully. “Yeah, we did.”

“So,” he said a little hesitantly, “I just wondered if, when you’re a bit more over it all, whether you might consider, uh, me?”

I stopped dead. “You’re asking me out?”

He looked nervously at me. “Well, yeah, if that’s okay. But only when you’re ready,” he added, as though I’d looked like I was about to curse him. (And quite possibly I did. I felt like cursing people all the time that week. It was nothing personal against Bernie.)

I considered his offer. He was nice enough, as I’d noted before the Yule Ball when I’d ditched him so unceremoniously. I felt horrible about that now – if I’d known how the thing with Sirius would end up, I would never have done that in the first place. This was my chance to make it up to him, and it would be a relief to think about someone else for a change.

“Thanks, Bernie,” I said with a smile I didn’t even have to fake. “I’d like that.”

He beamed at me. “That’s great,” he said. “Maybe we could start sitting together in Runes, you know, just get to know each other a bit better. What do you think?”

“Sounds great,” I said, even finding a little enthusiasm. That would mean I didn’t have to sit with Remus – it was like killing two birds with one curse.

Remus, however, seemed to have other ideas. “I heard you and Bernie,” he said as we made our way along the Gryffindor table for lunch. “Look, Laura, I might be completely out of line here, but I think you and Sirius should try to work things out before you start thinking about seeing other people. You’re both miserable and, frankly, you’re pining for each other.”

I turned to him angrily. “And what would you know, Remus? How do you know _what_ I’m feeling? It’s my life and if I want to date Bernie Carmichael, I’ll sodding well do it.”

“Well, make sure you’re doing it for the right reasons, then,” he said coolly, not blanching from my attack. “If it’s just to get back at Padfoot, or to try to get over him, then that’s not really fair on Bernie. Just keep that in mind.”

“Right, I’ll do that. Now, if you’ve finished sticking your nose in other people’s business, I’d like to have some lunch.”

_Or rather_ , _I’d like to sit alone at the Gryffindor table, ignoring everyone around me and nibbling at a piece of bread_. Because that was all I did at mealtimes these days. My appetite still hadn’t come back – in fact, the dinner at the Potters’ on New Year’s Eve was probably the last time I’d eaten properly. Mary had stolen into the kitchens a couple of times to try to tempt me with chocolate, but even that wasn’t working. At this rate, I’d waste away to nothing before my birthday.

After lunch it was Lily’s turn to try to talk me around. “I heard you’re thinking of dating Bernie Carmichael,” she said as we headed up the stairs towards Gryffindor Tower.

“Remus been telling stories, has he,” I said. “Nice of him.”

She grabbed my arm firmly. “Laura, _please_ talk to Sirius first. This is killing both of you. I’m sure if you just talked it over you could work things out.”

“Really,” I said. “Well, you think that if it makes you happy.”

“Now you’re sounding like him,” she said. “Look, Laura, he’s really suffering. James thinks he’s coping with this worse than he did when he had to leave home, he’s never seen him this down.”

“So you just want him to get over it, is that it? More concerned about him than you are about me. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said. “I’m just as worried about you. I was just about to say you’re not doing any better: don’t think we haven’t heard you crying yourself to sleep every night, those _Muffliato_ s you’ve been doing haven’t worked. And no one’s been able to get a coherent sentence out of you all week – not one that’s not bitter and, well, venomous.”

“Oh, so you just want me to be better company?” I snapped, trying to keep the bitterness from my voice in deference to her last remark.

“You’re being ridiculous again. I saw how happy you were. Both of you. No one could fake what you two had. I was so happy for both of you, and now, for heaven only knows what reason, you’re both miserable.” She paused. “And, well, I know this is selfish of me, but I want James back.”

“I bet you do. It’s all about you, isn’t it?” Then I realised what she’d actually said. “What do you mean, you want James back?”

Lily sighed. “Ever since you left on New Year’s Day, James has been concentrating on Sirius, trying to get him either over this, or back with you. I’m lucky if I get a fifth of his time these days, it’s all Sirius. And, to be honest, I miss him. I love that he’s the sort of person who does this for his friends, but I want it back how it was.” She sighed again. “I know it’s selfish, but please, if you won’t do it for your own sake or for his, do it for me? Just talk to Sirius? Please?”

“Why should I do it for you?” I asked. “You’re obviously on Sirius’ side, not mine. Why do I owe you anything?”

“I’m not on anyone’s side. I don’t think it’s a matter of sides, Laura. I think that once you sit down and talk it over, you’ll make up.”

“Yeah, whatever,” I said, though I wasn’t so bitter any more. To be honest, I hadn’t considered how this might be affecting Lily and James’ relationship, and I was feeling somewhat guilty for driving them apart like that. No matter what I thought of Lily just then, I didn’t want to break them up.

“You will, I’m sure of it,” she said, steering me into an empty classroom on the fifth floor and sitting me at a dusty table. “I haven’t had a chance to mention this before, but I think you should know what James’ mum said over the holidays. It might help sway your decision.”

I looked at her, surprised, as she perched on a nearby chair. “Mrs Potter? What’s she got to do with anything?”

“She was trying to get me to dish the dirt on you.”

I stared at her. “She what?”

“You heard. She wanted information, and she decided I was the one to give it. You should have heard her talking about you – she was amazed at Sirius’ behaviour. Apparently Clio went to last year’s party and he hardly spoke to her, and so if you compare that to this year …” Her voice trailed off.

“I don’t know,” I said. “James would say he hardly spoke to me this year. Well, until the morning, he didn’t.”

She giggled. “You know that’s not what I meant!”

“What was she saying?” I couldn’t help myself. Mrs Potter was the closest thing Sirius had to a mother, at least one who cared about him, and even if it hadn’t worked out between us I wanted to know what she’d thought.

Lily smiled mischievously, clearly relieved I was willing to hear her out. “Well, Mrs Potter’s a sly one, I’m discovering. She’s got this great façade of being the friendly motherly type, but she’s pretty shrewd underneath. She tried to trick me into saying bad things about you.”

I was stunned. “Really?”

She nodded. “I don’t think she really thought there was anything bad to say, but if there was she wanted to get it out of me. I think she wanted to make sure you were good enough for Sirius. Now,” she went on, “I don’t know if this is her usual behaviour or not. She might have tried to get dirt on Clio last year, or she might not have. To be honest, I got the feeling she didn’t. I think this was prompted by the way he was around you.”

“Right.” I paused, distracted enough from my problems to think about this. What could possibly have come out?

“Anyway,” Lily said, “she just started out with, ‘tell me about Laura’. Nothing about you and Sirius, just about you. So I told her we’d shared a dorm for seven years and you came from a half Muggle half wizarding household, that sort of background stuff. Born in Wales, lives in Bristol, big Quidditch nut, you know the type of thing. And I told her that for a long time I didn’t really know you that well, but in the past couple of years you’d really blossomed. And I said you were really smart and a lot of fun to be around.”

She paused and I took the opportunity to interrupt. “Thanks, Lily.”

“No problem,” she said. “Of course, that was before you and Sirius broke up, so you _were_ fun to be around then. Anyway, Mrs Potter then started asking about previous boyfriends, really subtly though. I think she was trying to get a feel for how you were going to treat Sirius. Like I said, this was before the fight, obviously. Anyway, I told her about Bertram and what he’d done, and I said you were really hurt by it but you showed a lot of strength and dignity in dealing with it.” She paused when I snorted in disbelief.

“You call bawling my eyes out after I found out, dignity?”

She laughed. “Of course not, but that was in private. In public you were very dignified. Even James thought so.”

That surprised me. “Really?”

“Yep. And if James thought that, then Sirius probably did too. Anyway, I told her you had a heart of gold and wouldn’t hurt anyone without a really good reason.” She paused. “Look, Laura, I don’t really know what happened with Sirius, and I’m sure you think you were justified. But I do know you haven’t heard his side of whatever it is, so just maybe there are things in the background you don’t know about. This is why I want you to talk to him – at least hear him out.”

“Right,” I said, unhappy at being returned to a reality where Sirius and I would never work out. “But you’ve changed the subject. Are you done with the Mrs Potter thing?”

Lily plainly saw she was stepping very close to the mark and backed off. “Right. Mrs Potter. Like I said, you only hurt people if you really think they deserve it. So then she asked about things you’d done to people you thought did deserve it.”

“I can see why you’re calling her sly,” I said, my mind going back over everything I’d done to people over the years and wondering what Mrs Potter had thought about it.

She smiled broadly and nodded. “Yep. Anyway I said that it was mostly pretty harmless stuff, and mostly things your sister had taught you. I loved that one where you joined Gibbon’s knees together, by the way – that was a scream.” She paused, still grinning. “I think you passed, though. I told her I thought you and Sirius were a perfect match.” She paused significantly. “And I still think that, no matter what you think at the moment,” she said pointedly. “You just need to give it a chance.”

“Right,” I said again. “You just go on thinking that.”

She made a face. “You’re sounding like him again. And you’re still thinking about him, too, aren’t you?”

“Does it matter?”

“It might,” she said. I just looked at her. “Right, back to Mrs Potter,” she said quickly. “I was there on Boxing Day, as you know, and she’d heard your name a lot by then even so that was why she was so curious about you. You should have seen Sirius’ face when he was talking about you, it was a bit like a prior warning of how he was going to behave once you did arrive. ’Cause you’d seen each other just before Christmas, right?”

I nodded, trying not to remember how wonderful that day had been. “Two days before, on the Friday.”

She smiled. “Yes, that was it. Anyway, when I was talking to her on New Years Eve she said, ‘I’ve never seen him like this. He hasn’t let go of her since she got here’, or something like that. Which was true, it was like he was scared you were going to get away. Or that you were a dream and if he let go you’d disappear. So I explained he’d been crazy about you for months so of course he’d look like all his Christmases had come at once. And then I said you were just as crazy about him. She seemed happy with that.”

I sat in silence for a little while, trying to take it all in. “So, what happened after I left?”

“The whole place was in uproar. Sirius was running off down the lane trying to catch up with the car, and when that didn’t work he came back and wrote to you to try to get you to come back. And then their owl brought the letter back unopened, with another parcel … he was devastated. What was in that parcel, anyway?”

“Gifts,” I said, somewhat surprised she didn’t know. “I didn’t want the reminder.”

She looked shocked. “That bracelet? You sent that back? But you loved it!”

“That, and the clasp I got for my birthday last year. That was him, too.”

“Well, that would explain it,” she said, shaking her head. “He locked himself up in his room and didn’t come out again for hours. When he did, he just got straight onto the bike and left without saying goodbye to anyone. James was terrified he was going to do something stupid like pick a fight with some Death Eaters, so he Disapparated to London to wait for him there. I’ve barely seen him since, to be honest.”

“I’m sorry, Lily,” I said. “I didn’t mean to cause trouble for you two.”

“I know you didn’t,” she said, coming over and giving me a hug. “So, will you talk to him? Please?”

I knew when I was defeated. “Yeah, why not. Not that it’ll make any difference.”

“You never know,” she said. “Wait here, okay? I’ll go and get him.”


	41. Reconciliation attempted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laura and Sirius have a long talk in an attempt to iron out any misunderstandings, even if neither of them think it’ll do any good.

I felt uncomfortable and rather vulnerable sitting alone in the classroom like that, my tear-stained face on display to anyone who opened the door. To help counteract this – I wasn’t going to leave, I’d made a promise to Lily – I moved from my chair in the middle of the room to a spot on the floor behind the door, hidden from anyone who didn’t know I was there. A little while later the door opened again and James poked his head in.

“Good, you’re still here,” he said when he spotted me leaning against the wall, curled up in the foetal position. “Now give me your wand.”

I stared at him. “Give you my _wand_?”

He nodded, coming into the room and standing in front of me with his hand held out. “Yes, your wand. We don’t want this turning into a hex battle.”

“I’m not giving you my wand,” I said petulantly.

He shrugged. “Your choice. But be warned, I’m prepared to fight you for it. I’d just prefer it if you handed it over voluntarily.”

Figuring I’d been through enough lately without James Potter using me for target practice as well, I reached into my robes and pulled it out. “Fine. Have it your way.”

“Good. I’ve taken Padfoot’s too, just so you know.”

“Right,” I said. “Whatever.”

James went back out into the passage and a moment later Sirius came in and sat down next to me, not too close but not very far either, maybe a couple of feet. We heard the door squelch as it closed; it had obviously been _Colloportus_ ed. It looked like we were being locked in this room until something – anything – got resolved.

For several seconds, neither of us spoke. Sirius broke the silence. “Prongs and Lily think we should talk.” His voice sounded a little hoarse, like he hadn’t used it much lately.

I nodded. “Apparently.”

There was another silence. This time, I broke it. “Did you want to start?”

He laughed hollowly. “Why bother? Even if you did listen, chances are you wouldn’t believe me anyway.”

There was too much truth in this for me to ignore so I just sat there, staring at the wall opposite. After another pause, he leaned over and put a small parcel on the floor next to me.

“You might as well have these back,” he said. “I’ve no use for them. Do what you like with them, I don’t care. You can even sell them, you should get a decent bit of gold for them.” His voice was flat and he didn’t look at me.

I picked up the parcel. It jingled a little in my hand and when I opened it, I saw the clasp and the bracelet he had bought me. The ones I had sent back to him.

“You should keep them,” I said.

He shook his head. “No point. I bought them to try to show someone how much she meant to me,” he said, his voice cracking a little. “Turns out she didn’t care.”

Tears started rolling down my cheeks. “I cared. I probably cared too much. That’s why it hurt so much, finding out it wasn’t real.”

“But it _was_ real,” he said, anger making his voice come alive. “You wilfully misunderstood.”

“Yeah, whatever. I’ve heard that before.”

“Well, then, did it ever occur to you that there might be something in it?”

“I know what I heard,” I said. “I wasn’t born yesterday, Sirius. It was pretty obvious what you meant.”

“I guess it doesn’t matter anyway,” he said, his voice dull and expressionless again. “You’re not the person I thought you were. I made a mistake.”

The tears came back again. That was all I was now – a mistake. It was like a knife in my heart.

“What did you think I was like?” I asked tentatively.

He shrugged. “I thought you actually understood me. I thought if anything like this ever came up you would stop to hear my side of it, rather than jumping to conclusions and, well, ditching me like that.” He paused again. “I thought you were special.”

The knife in my heart turned. I’d thought I’d understood him, too, just as I’d thought he’d understood me. We must have both been wrong.

I pushed the jewellery back towards him. “You take these. Maybe you can return them or something.”

He shook his head and pushed it back to my side. “I bought them for you. They’re yours. Sell them if you don’t want them, you should get fifty or sixty for them.”

“Forty or fifty Sickles?” I asked, turning my head to look at him.

He looked offended. “What do you think I am, a cheapskate?”

My eyes widened. “Galleons?”

He nodded. “Only the best,” he said bitterly. “I _thought_ you were worth it.”

“I’m so sorry,” I murmured, trying not to cry again. His words cut at me, and to try to distract myself I picked up the bracelet and fingered it absently.

“Worth every Knut, though,” he said suddenly, his voice coming alive again with what almost sounded like enthusiasm. “We had, what, three full days together?” I looked at him and nodded, the tears blurring my vision a little. He turned to face the wall again. “Best three days of my life. Best two weeks of my life, really, even if I didn’t see you for most of them. If all it took to feel like that all the time was a bit of gold, I’d be shelling it out happily.”

I could have said that myself. Almost word for word, it was exactly how I felt. How could it all have gone so wrong? Trying not to think about it, I took a deep breath and asked the question I’d been avoiding for a fortnight.

“Sirius, tell me about what I heard. You know, at James’ place.”

He turned his head and looked at me, clearly surprised. “Really?”

I nodded, steeling myself. “Yes, really.” I took another breath. “I’m not so different from what you thought. I know I should hear you out. I just didn’t want to in case it hurt me even more.”

He looked a little relieved, but didn’t answer straight away. “Where to start,” I heard him mutter. “Right,” he went on, this time louder. “Well, as a bit of background, the things we talk about among ourselves are pretty much sports, girls and sex. Though not necessarily in that order.”

I nodded. “Probably not a huge surprise.”

The ghost of a smile crossed his face. “No, probably not. Anyway, well, there are twenty girls in our year group here, so you shouldn’t be surprised to learn we’ve gone through and rated every one of you over the years. And that sparks off little asides, and in-jokes, and that sort of thing.”

“Right.” I wasn’t sure how much of this I really wanted to know.

“Okay.” He took a breath. “So, keep that in mind as I move on to what you heard that morning. We were trying to find Wormtail a girlfriend, because as you know he hasn’t had much success with girls. You know, someone who might actually want to touch him.”

I smiled despite myself. “Good luck with that.”

“Well, yes,” he said. “And he doesn’t make things any easier for himself because he’s so picky.”

I stared at him. “ _Peter_?”

He nodded. “Yes, he is. We’d thrown some names at him and he’d found something wrong with all of them. So we summed it up by saying he just wants someone with a great body but not much in the way of brains.”

“Tits and arse and not much else,” I said tonelessly.

He made a face. “I’m not proud of that line, but, well, yes. And someone made the connection that, before you, my past history was pretty much that.”

“And then with me,” I said, “you didn’t even get that because, as Peter said, I don’t have much by way of –”

“No,” Sirius said, cutting me off. “No, that’s _not_ what we meant.”

I looked at him scornfully. “Yeah, right. Pull the other one.”

“No, it’s not,” he insisted. “We meant you’re different because you’re more than that, not less.”

“Funny way of saying it, then.”

“I said we talked about sex, not feelings,” he said with some exasperation. “They’re two completely different things.”

“I guess,” I said, trying to be fair. “Connected, but different.”

He made a noise like he was about to argue the point but thought better of it. “Right. So if anything as – um – _personal_ as feelings comes up, then we try to say it in as, er, as general a way as possible. And if there can be more than one meaning to what you say, if it could be misconstrued, then so much the better.” He sighed again as he took in my sceptical expression. “Look, Laura, I’m not trying to excuse what I said, I’m trying to explain it.”

“Okay.” I tried to hide my irritation. “But you never talk about anything personal? Not even with James?”

He waved a hand impatiently. “Oh, one on one we do, but not in a group. There are probably exceptions, of course, but usually it’ll only come up in a group situation if we want to embarrass someone.”

“Right. So, what you’re saying is, you were speaking generally and trying to give things connotations that weren’t necessarily accurate.”

“I’m the first to admit it should have been worded differently,” he said, looking at the wall again. “I’m not proud of it. We just figured you were still asleep and Lily was in the shower, so we didn’t think anyone would hear us. Call it not thinking, call it what you like, but it was a mistake.”

“But this is the sort of thing you’d be saying in the dorm.”

“Well, yes,” he said, sighing again. “Maybe I shouldn’t even be trying this. Trying to get you to understand how a boy’s mind works – I don’t really understand how your mind works, so trying to explain this to you is probably pointless.”

“Try me,” I said. “I’ll do my best.”

He hesitated. “Okay, I’ll try you. Just in case you are worth it, after all. So, going back to what you heard. The comment about your … well, that comment, that was a throwback of those ratings of girls we used to do.”

“So that was how you rated me,” I said dryly. “Thanks.”

“Hey, you said you’d hear me out,” he said, making a face. “This is you doing your best?”

I felt chastened. “Sorry.”

He nodded. “Right. Well, that was how I rated you in fifth year. I think you got about a five. Out of ten, that is. Nothing special, I thought, and could do with bigger …”

I looked away from him again. “Right. Thanks for that.”

“And then last term when we did it again,” he said loudly, talking over me, “I gave you a ten.”

My head spun towards him. “Ten?”

He nodded. “I told you in Bristol you were just about perfect. And I meant that. I thought you were.” He shook his head again. “Got that one wrong, didn’t I.”

I realised suddenly we had both moved from our original positions, towards each other, just subtly but enough that the gap between us was now only a matter of inches rather than feet, and I wondered what that was telling me. Probably it was just something else I didn’t want to think about.

“So,” I said, “what you’re saying is, when you were talking about me that day, you were saying – in a roundabout way, by the sounds of things – that I represented more, not less, than, well, that phrase.”

He met my eyes and nodded, plainly willing me to believe him. “Yes.”

“Then why did you say I made up for it by shagging you?”

“I didn’t,” he said with some frustration. “You’re jumping to conclusions again. I said they knew what I thought of that comment – which incidentally was I liked them how they were – and that you made up for it in other ways. And bear in mind what I said about skirting around any feelings in these conversations and saying stuff that could mean several different things.”

I nodded, trying to be fair and hear him out. “Okay. So you were deliberately implying one thing, but you meant something else.”

He nodded. “Yes. And the gang understood that, so they never interpreted it that way. They’d laugh about it, yes, but they knew it didn’t mean that.”

“So what _did_ you mean?”

He hesitated for a second before answering. “I meant that you, as a whole package, were … you know that phrase, the whole is more than the sum of its parts? Or Golpalott’s Third Law in Potions – the antidote to a blended poison is equal to more than the sum of each individual antidote. That’s what it was like with you. That is, the parts were all brilliant, but combined … it was like you were too good to be true. Which in hindsight I guess you were. Because if you were what I thought you were, we would have been having this conversation two weeks ago instead of now, and you would have figured out there was nothing in it. And none of these past two weeks would have happened.”

I shook my head, my eyes welling up again. “You see, Sirius, this is why I didn’t want to talk to you, why I sent those letters back. You’re too good at this. You always say just what I want to hear. It makes it so much harder not to believe you.”

“Well, then, try believing it. I’m not just saying this stuff, Laura. I mean it. Think about it – the way people talk about me at this school, do you honestly think that if I said this sort of thing as a matter of course, you wouldn’t know?”

I smiled wryly. “I’ve got to hand it to you, that’s a good argument.”

“Because it’s true,” he said. “And believe me, if they thought we were shagging, you would have known about it.”

I shook my head again. “Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.” And I hugged my knees tightly and burst into noisy and very undignified tears.

I immediately felt his arm around me, comforting me, even though I had just called him the worst sort of liar. Before I could stop myself I had collapsed onto him, throwing my arms around him and crying onto his shoulder as he patted my back reassuringly and held me to him. It was incredibly comforting, even though every now and then I felt him shudder a little, as though he too was struggling to stay calm.

“You still don’t believe me, do you,” he said after a while. I looked at him and shook my head mutely. “I thought you would,” he mumbled, releasing his hold on me. “The person I thought you were, would have.”

“I want to,” I whispered. “More than anything I want to. But I can’t risk it.” I looked away. “I can’t go through this again. It just hurts too much.”

“Try. We can work this out. You won’t have to go through this again. Come on, prove to me I wasn’t wrong about you.”

I looked at him, sighing inwardly. He did understand me, too well I thought – this was definitely intended to be a challenge and he would have known I would have trouble backing away from it. But could we do it? After this, could it ever be like it was before?

“I’m not sure I can,” I said finally. “It’s probably too late.”

“Try me,” he said. And he gently turned me to face him and put a finger to my wet cheek, wiping away a tear.

Through blurry eyes I gazed at him, longing for it all to be real. And his face was open, it had that look I’d thought meant he was being genuine. Maybe, a small voice in the back of my mind said, he was. Just maybe, this was true.

Watching me intently, he pushed my hair back off my face, where it had been clinging to the wet skin, and leaned in and kissed my cheek, his lips just brushing where a tear was sitting. A moment later, after I didn’t push him away, he did it again, focussing on another tear on the other cheek, further down this time, closer to my mouth. And before I even realised I was doing it, I had moved my head ever so slightly and caught his lips with mine, kissing him hungrily and with all the passion of a broken heart, pulling him towards me to be as close as possible.

After a little while we broke apart, not really sure why we’d been kissing at all. Wasn’t this a break-up meeting? _Don’t be silly_ , that voice in the back of my head told me, _this is what you wanted all along. As soon as he came into the room, you wanted to make it up with him._

He seemed to know what I was thinking because he put a hand to my face again and looked at me searchingly. “Laura, what does this mean? Are we back on?”

I hesitated. I wanted more than anything to say yes, but something still held me back. “I don’t know.”

He pulled away from me abruptly and stared at the wall opposite again, his hand raking through his hair in frustration. “For the love of Merlin, Laura, make up your mind. If this is ever going to work out – and deep down you know we both want it to – then you’re going to have to trust me. Tell me honestly, when have I _ever_ lied to you? Think about it. Never, that’s your answer. Never. I might have not answered a question, or I might have dodged it with jokes and sarcasm, but I haven’t lied. Not once.”

Taken aback, I forced myself to think about it. I went through every conversation I’d ever had with him I could think of, every single one (aside from what had caused the fight in the first place – I was trying to be fair), and I couldn’t remember a definite lie. Evasions, yes, but no lies. So, I reasoned internally, that would tend to indicate he wasn’t lying now. I had to swallow my insecurities and accept that. Finally, I took a deep breath and turned to him again, saying the words I knew in my heart to be true.

“I trust you.”

_Of course you do,_ that annoying voice in my head said. _You’d trust him with your life, if it came to that._

He was still staring at the wall, but at this he quickly turned towards me. “What was that?”

“I trust you,” I repeated. “You’re right. You haven’t lied to me. Not that I can think of, anyway.”

His whole body relaxed, which surprised me as I hadn’t realised how tense he’d been. “You really mean that? You believe me now?”

I nodded slowly. “I’m so sorry. I’ve been completely unfair to you, haven’t I?”

“It was my fault too,” he said. “I should never have said that in the first place.” He took a breath, his hand running through my hair. “I spent all this week, after you wouldn’t talk to me on Sunday, trying to convince myself I’d misjudged you, that I was wrong about you.” He pulled me on to his lap and wrapped his arms firmly around me like he was afraid I’d run away or something. In an attempt to get closer I pulled one leg over so I was straddling him, holding him as tightly as I could, never wanting to let go. It was like we could make up for the past two weeks just from that one, extended embrace. Tears came to my eyes again, but this time they were of relief, of not being able to believe my luck that we could start again.

“If that’s what losing you feels like,” he said into my hair after a minute or two, “I never want to lose you again.”

“Me neither,” I murmured, and we kissed, hungrily, still needing to make up for those two weeks in as short a time as possible, me starting to wonder why we’d broken up at all. This was what I had always wanted. Even when I didn’t know I wanted him, I knew I wanted this.

After a while we paused for breath, and he took the opportunity to put a hand to my breast. “And, for the record,” he said, “I would _never_ need a search party to find these, and I certainly don’t want you casting an Engorgement Charm on them. I think they’re perfect just the way they are.” His hand was still there, his thumb finding a nipple through my robes and sending a surge of electricity through me. “In fact, my only complaint is that I don’t know them nearly well enough. They are, like the rest of you, beautiful.” And he leaned down and kissed each one softly – and it sent my heart racing even more.

Instinctively, unconsciously, my own hand found its way to between his legs where he was, for want of a better phrase, pitching a bit of a tent. He lifted his head, a mischievous smile crossing his face. “Do I take it you don’t want to go slow anymore?”

“This _is_ slow,” I said, surprising myself with my boldness as my hand nervously explored the outline of what it had found. “We’re both fully clothed, aren’t we?”

“For the time being.” A little alarmed, I took my hand away – I hadn’t intended to go any further than that. “Joking, joking,” he said quickly, grabbing my hand and moving it back to where it was. “Though if I’d known this would happen today, I would have shaved this morning.” He put a hand to the stubble on his cheek smiled ruefully.

“And I would have washed my hair,” I said. “I promise to ignore yours if you’ll ignore mine.”

Some time later the door opened again, and James and Lily tentatively poked their heads into the room. “It’s been two hours,” Lily said. “How’s it go-” Her voice cut out as she saw Sirius and me, curled up together in a corner, our arms around each other. “Well,” she said, looking so relieved it was almost funny, “I guess you two have worked it out.”

“You could say that,” Sirius said, unable to stop his smile as we stood up. “Oh, and Prongs? I’ll take my wand back now, if you don’t mind.”

“What?” James looked confused. “Oh yeah, right. Of course.” He reached into his robes and pulled out two wands, which he looked at intently before throwing the correct ones to each of us.

“Thanks,” said Sirius, twirling his in his hand before stowing it inside his robes. “Could have done with this an hour ago.”

“Why?” asked Lily.

“Conjure up a mattress or something.” Sirius rubbed his elbow. “This floor’s not very comfortable, if you know what I mean.”

“So, are you saying you’d like us to leave you here?” James asked, smiling broadly. “That can be arranged. An Imperturbable Charm on the door, perhaps?”

“Now there’s a thought,” I said. “But, you said it had been two hours?”

Lily nodded. “We thought that would be long enough. Looks like we were right.” She looked pointedly at the bracelet I was now wearing again, and smiled.

I ignored her grin. “But that means classes have finished now,” I said, thinking hard. “And that would mean supper’s not very far off.” I looked at Sirius. “Food’s sounding pretty good right now, to tell the truth. I’m starving.”

“No problem,” he said, his eyes sparkling. “I might duck upstairs first, though, if you don’t mind. Clean myself up a bit.”

I fingered my hair, hanging limply past my shoulders. I wasn’t sure when it – or my face, for that matter – had last been washed and, like Sirius, I was keen to rectify this as soon as possible. “Good idea,” I said. “Wait for me, will you? I’ll come up too.”

****

I was saddened but not surprised when our entry into the Great Hall for dinner was again greeted by whispers. “What? They’re back together?” … “How did that happen?” … “She must be helping it along a bit …”

I tried to ignore it while Sirius just groaned. “Delightful, aren’t they,” he said as we sat down. “You’d think they’d have something else to talk about. There is a war on, after all.”

“Until that starts affecting them directly, though, I think this is the sort of thing they’ll want to talk about,” I said. “And as much as it annoys me, I don’t think I’m going to start wishing a Death Eater attack on the Vablatskys.”

He smiled and kissed my cheek. “Though that would be one way of dealing with it …”

Mary interrupted us by running over from the Ravenclaw table, where she’d been sitting with Sebastian. “Thank goodness ye worked it oot,” she breathed as she gave us the biggest bear hug I’d ever experienced. “Ye were drivin’ us all mad, no’ talkin’ t’ each other when we coul’ all see ye were both dyin’.”

“Nice to see you, too, Mary. Merlin’s beard, has _everyone_ been talking about it?”

“Jus’ yer friends,” she said, still smiling broadly. “An’, I think, yer fan club too, Sirius. Though they might no’ be as chuffed as we are t’ see ye back together.”

“Was I that bad company this week?” I asked.

She made a face. “Worse. Both o’ ye, horrible t’ be aroond. Bu’ ye’ve made up so we can all relax agin. Now jus’ promise ye won’ do it agin, I don’ think any o’ us coul’ stan’ it.” She turned to me. “Oh, an’ don’ worry aboot Bernie. I think he’s worked oot it’s no’ goin’ t’ happen.” And she gave me another hug and trundled back to Sebastian, waving merrily at us over her shoulder.

I looked past her to the Ravenclaw table, where Bernie did indeed look somewhat resigned as he stabbed at something with his fork. That was twice I’d let him down, I realised with more than a little guilt. I’d have to make a point of apologising.

Sirius looked at me. “Bernie? As in, Bernie Carmichael? What’s that about?”

“He asked me out,” I said. “And I said I’d think about it.”

“He’s got a nerve,” he muttered. “What jinxes haven’t I used on him yet?”

“Hey, be fair. He was really polite and said he’d wait till I was ready. And, well, we _had_ broken up, so it’s not like I wasn’t single.” I squeezed his hand. “But Lily asked me to talk to you first, and, well, that was this afternoon.”

“Right.” He still looked put out. “Thanks, Lily,” he said a bit louder. “I owe you one.” Lily turned and looked at him, clearly a little confused, but he didn’t elaborate.

The meal was almost over when Sirius leaned over and spoke very quietly in my ear. “This is driving me crazy. When can we get out of here?”

I swallowed my bite of treacle tart. “I think I’ve just about made up for not eating over the past fortnight, but it’s up to you. Do you want to be the first to leave the hall?”

He winked at me. “They’ll talk about us anyway, we might as well give them a reason,” he said, a sly grin on his face. “Come on.”

Our friends smiled knowingly when we stood up to leave, and some whispers came from the other tables, but to my surprise I found I didn’t care. I knew what I had to look forward to once we were out of sight and Sirius didn’t disappoint, stopping in the Entrance Hall to kiss me deeply before we headed upstairs. “I’m not really one for broom cupboards,” he said conversationally on the way up. “Too cramped, generally, and Filch tends to find you. Not to mention the potential for stepping in buckets and things by mistake – most uncomfortable. I got hit in the eye by a mop handle once because I knocked it the wrong way.” He grinned. “Besides, that cupboard just off the Entrance Hall gets used by so many people you almost need to book it in advance. So we’ve come up with some other alternatives.”

I had thought he was taking me back to what would have been an empty Gryffindor Tower, going by the route we took, but that seemed to indicate otherwise. This impression was confirmed when we detoured off route on the fourth floor and stopped outside a large mirror.

“ _Alohomora_ ,” he said, tapping it with his wand, and the mirror creaked as it came out from the wall and revealed a secret passageway.

Sirius pulled me inside and the mirror closed back up, leaving us in darkness. We both lit our wands automatically and I had a look around.

“This leads to the back of the Three Broomsticks,” he said. “It’s probably the roomiest of the passages out of the school. Now, let’s make it a bit more comfortable.” And he conjured a thick rug for the floor and some floor cushions while I just watched dumbly, trying to take it in.

“Right,” he said once he was happy with it, “where were we?” And he pulled me towards him and we kissed again, tenderly, passionately, as though there was no one else in the world.


	42. Confrontations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> … with Elvira and the fan club, Regulus and … Sirius, who is unexpectedly being rather cagey. Whoever said you don’t need to work on relationships?

The following Monday I was accosted by Elvira, Greta Catchlove and a handful of other fan club members as I sat in the library in my morning free period. Sirius had just gone to Muggle Studies and I wanted to spend some time catching up on the homework I’d neglected the previous week.

“Okay, tell us how you did it,” Elvira said, taking the seat next to me. I was a little surprised as I understood she took Muggle Studies too, but maybe she was willing to risk the ire of Professor Penrose by being late.

I decided to play dumb. “Did what?”

“Got your slimy paws on Sirius, of course.”

I looked at her. “Aren’t you supposed to be in Muggle Studies now, Elvira? You could be asking him.”

She glared at me. “Hrmph. And I thought you were my friend! How could you do that to me?”

“For one thing, I would never have called us friends. Friends hang out at lunch time and go to Hogsmeade together and catch up over the holidays. That was never us.”

She ignored that. “But what did you do? Was it a love potion? ’Cause we tried that and it didn’t work.”

This was news to me but I wasn’t exactly surprised. Sirius would have to be really thick to eat or drink anything any of this lot gave him. However, it did give me something to work with.

“That’s right,” I said. “I stole some amortentia from Slughorn and fed it to him. Unfortunately it ran out over Christmas, though, and I’ve only just got my supplies up again.”

From the looks on their faces they actually believed me. “How much did you use?” Greta asked.

I had no idea how much amortentia would be needed to get someone interested in you, and unlike Elvira, Greta did NEWT level Potions so I’d have to be convincing. “Half a tablespoon,” I invented.

“So, was it worth it?” Greta asked. “What’s it like?”

Well, if the fact I couldn’t stop smiling didn’t give it away, then she and Elvira weren’t as smart as I’d given them credit for. Then again, there are none so blind as those who will not see, as my mother would say. “Definitely worth it,” I said, my mind going back just half an hour to the free period Sirius and I had spent together. “It’s amazing.”

Anyway, I might have been laying it on a bit thick because Elvira was looking suspicious. “Why are you telling us all this? What if it gets back to him?”

This brought me back to earth a bit, though nothing had been said that offered me any unease. After all, before we got together I hadn’t given Sirius even so much as a breath mint, so I wasn’t overly worried. “Tell him what you like,” I said. “You think he’d believe you anyway?”

“She’s got a point,” said a sixth-year I knew was in Gryffindor, though I’d not heard her speak before. “He wouldn’t listen to us.”

“She’s lying anyway,” said Elvira, eyeing me shrewdly, reminding me suddenly that she was a Ravenclaw. “You never gave him any love potion, did you?”

I grinned. “I admit it. Caught out again. How did you guess?”

She didn’t answer, returning instead to her favourite theme. “So how did you do it? What do you have that we don’t?”

Again I refrained from giving the obvious answer – “Sirius” – and instead smiled a somewhat vicious smile. “Well, Elvira,” I said sweetly, “remember how I once suggested you not throw yourself at him but rather just be yourself, be a person who’s nice to be around, and see if it works?”

She blanched a little. “Vaguely. What about it?”

I kept smiling. “Well, guess what? It works.”

****

I got the distinct feeling after that little episode that my previously friendly, or at least cordial, relationship with Elvira and others in the fan club was well and truly over. This impression was solidified that very afternoon, when Greta obviously decided I was a deserving target during our Potions lesson.

The seating arrangements in the dungeon had changed yet again, with me moving to Sirius, Lily and James’ table, and Remus good-naturedly taking my spot with Charlotte and the two Hufflepuffs. I was sure Charlotte was just as pleased with the rearrangement as I was, though Remus appeared a little uncomfortable. Slughorn, for his part, didn’t appear to detect any had alteration taken place, but then again neither Remus nor I were in the Slug Club so we were beneath his notice, so to speak.

In fact, the only ones who paid any attention to the change at all were Leda Minchum, who glared at me as I went to the table at the back of the room, and Greta, who looked furious and would occasionally send a hex my way from her position on our left, forcing us to cast a Shield Charm between the two tables.

“That’s it, ignore her,” Sirius said, a jinx hitting the invisible shield as we worked together on the day’s assignment. “She’ll get tired of it before too long.”

“Aww,” I said. “Can’t I turn her fingers into asparagus spears? Just this once? Please?” I checked quickly to see if Slughorn was nearby, but he was paying little attention to us as he explained something to Scylla Pritchard at the Slytherin table.

Sirius grinned. “Tempting. But maybe you should wait until class is over. I don’t want you getting a detention.”

“But that ruins all the fun,” I said, shaking my head. “Not much point taking control of her fingers away _after_ we’ve left Potions.”

He laughed, almost slicing his hand open as he cut our valerian roots into smaller portions. “You’ve got me there. But what happened to the girl who told me she never did anything wrong?”

I looked at him, surprised. “When did I say that?”

“That night you got me out of a detention when we were coming back from Quidditch practice,” he said. “Filch caught us out after curfew.”

I tried to remember the night in question. “Did I really say that? Because it’s not quite right. No, what it is is that no one ever _thinks_ I’m doing anything wrong. Big difference.” I smiled as I sorted the frozen ashwinder eggs Lily had brought back from the stores cupboard into four piles.

“By the way,” I went on as something occurred to me, “was that a set-up? The whole I-must-be-escorted-to-and-from-the-Quidditch-pitch thing?”

Sirius laughed. “Of course it was. It’s taken you this long to work it out? Though Prongs was most disappointed I didn’t make the most of it, weren’t you, mate?” He clapped James on the shoulder.

James, plainly suppressing a smile, shook his head as he dropped the frozen eggs into his cauldron. “I gave him every opportunity I could think of and he kept chickening out. Tell you what, Laura, I never realised Padfoot could be so gutless.”

Lily looked up from her potion and nodded. “Like I said, last term we were that close to locking you two in a broom cupboard. Never have two people been alone so much and never done anything.”

I laughed. “I think you probably need to work on your matchmaking skills,” I said, dropping a scoopful of Flobberworms into my cauldron. “In the end we had to work it out for ourselves.”

James raised his eyebrows, though his hazel eyes were sparkling behind his glasses. “Like hell you did. Padfoot would still be drooling from a distance if I hadn’t physically pushed him towards you at the ball.”

Sirius looked unimpressed. “I was already going, you didn’t _have_ to push me!”

“Yes, of course you were,” James said. “We know what we saw, don’t we, Lils?” Grinning broadly, he turned back to his potion and began stirring it anticlockwise.

Lily grinned too. “Yes, and it looked a lot like hesitation from where I was.”

“I was going, all right?” Sirius was definitely not happy with the way the conversation was going so I decided to rescue him.

“I believe you,” I said, looking at him fondly. “And I’m going to change the subject and go back to hexing Greta.” We all turned our heads just in time to see another of her jinxes deflect off the shield Sirius had erected, and I looked at him. “Am I allowed to do the asparagus thing?” I didn’t actually need his permission, of course, but it was a nice charade to play.

He paused as though thinking about it. “How about, if she manages to shatter the shield, she’s fair game. Do what you like.” I smiled as he dropped two dried Billywig stings into his cauldron and then mine, and then gave me a quick hug.

Of course, Greta didn’t shatter the shield – she may have been good at Charms but Sirius was brilliant at Defence, and I thought even a fully qualified Death Eater would probably have trouble shattering his Shield Charm. As a result she made it out of Potions hex-free, though if she kept up her attacks on me I couldn’t guarantee how long she would remain so. Even if I didn’t lose it first and retaliate, she could well end up with Sirius to deal with, and I wouldn’t have wished that on anyone.

The seating arrangements also changed somewhat in Defence, Charms, Transfiguration, and even Herbology as we made the most of every opportunity to be together, even if it was just sharing a desk during lessons. The rest of our group were unperturbed, Remus pairing up with Peter, Mary choosing to sit with Sebastian when he was in our classes, and Martha and Charlotte partnering each other, all insisting I should take my time to feel my way into this new relationship.

And feel my way in I did, in more ways than one. Quite frankly, Sirius as a boyfriend was a lot more touchy-feely than I had anticipated. I’d seen him with previous girlfriends and there hadn’t seemed to be much in the way of public displays, but now he was always there, holding my hand or with an arm around my waist or shoulders, kissing me at mealtimes in full view of everyone. Quick pecks, that is, not a full snog, but still not what I had been expecting. Occasionally when we were doing homework together he would grab my hand and kiss it, as though without thinking, and without pausing in whatever he was writing. And even in class he would sit so close our chairs were touching. I didn’t mind – in fact, I found it rather endearing and definitely reassuring – but it was still a little surprising.

Martha had noticed it too. “He’s different with you,” she said that night in the dorm. “He won’t let go of you: it’s like he’s stamping his name on you, marking his territory so no one else dares come close.”

I laughed. “You make him sound like a dog!”

She shrugged and Lily was clearly suppressing a smile. “Yeah, okay, maybe that was unfair,” Martha said. “But it is different. With the rest of us, he didn’t give a toss whether we stayed or went. But with you, if you go, he’ll follow. It’s almost like he’s worried if he lets go of you, you might disappear again.”

Lily smiled. “No, it’s just that he thinks that time apart is time wasted. And I can understand that,” she said, a bit of a dreamy look on her face. “James is the same.”

Martha shook her head. “No, not even James is this bad,” she said before appearing to reconsider. “Or maybe he was, at the start, but he’s not anymore.”

“Well then, give us a couple of months and Sirius will most probably back off too,” I said.

She shrugged again. “Maybe. Like I said, he’s different with you. He may not back off at all.”

****

The following day, Sirius and I both had a break in the last period and so absconded to an empty classroom on the fifth floor for some time alone, a hot air charm around us in an attempt to block out the icy wind that insisted on coming through the cracks around the ancient windows. Unfortunately our rendezvous was interrupted when my Imperturbable Charm was broken, and the door opened to reveal Professor McGonagall. She did a bit of a double take as she took in the sight of Sirius on an old chair and me on his lap, facing him, having obviously just been interrupted mid-snog.

“Mr Black, Miss Cauldwell, you are well aware that is not appropriate behaviour,” she said, her eyebrows hovering somewhere near her hairline, though I got the impression she was trying not to smile. “I expect better conduct from students in my House.” She paused, looking at us over her glasses, and dropped her voice slightly. “You would also do well to remember that Imperturbable Charms are by no means fool proof.”

We got sheepishly to our feet. “Sorry, Professor,” we mumbled pretty much in unison, grabbing our school bags from a nearby desk.

She stood by the open door and waited until we had passed her, the ghost of a smile now definitely on her lips. I even thought I heard her mutter, “Good choice, Black,” as we made our way into the corridor.

I looked up at him as we headed downstairs to find somewhere a bit warmer. “Did she just say what I thought she said?”

He smiled, his arm around my shoulder. “You know, I think she did. Seems old Minerva approves of you. Who’d have thought it?”

I never got a chance to respond, though: as we rounded a corner we found ourselves face to face with Regulus Black. I’d seen him around but had never spoken to him; however, his expression as he looked at me made it evident this wasn’t to be a friendly family reunion.

Sirius must have seen his brother’s face but opted to ignore it. “Reg! What are you doing up here? Have you met Laura?”

“So it’s true then,” Regulus said, not answering the questions and looking at Sirius and then me with obvious distaste. “You’ve hooked up with _her_.”

“And what if I have?” The cheerful tone in Sirius’ voice disappeared with alarming speed and his arm dropped from my shoulder as he looked threateningly at his brother, his hand going inside his robes where he kept his wand.

Regulus sneered. “I looked up to you for years. Years. I believed some of that stuff you said. When you got Sorted into Gryffindor, I defended you to Mum and Dad. I’ve disobeyed orders to talk to you, defended you to people in Slytherin. But this time you’ve gone too far. I can’t accept this.” He paused. “She’s a Muggle, for Merlin’s sake. A _Muggle_.”

“Actually,” Sirius said coldly, “she’s only half Muggle. You might want to get your facts straight. Not that it makes any difference anyway. She’s amazing, no matter who or what her parents are. And that’s what my point has been all along. A person is more than just their parents’ bloodline.” He put his arm protectively back around my shoulders.

“Her bloodline makes all the difference in the world,” Regulus said, just as coldly. “I’m sorry, but I can’t defend you anymore. It’s her or me.”

My heart stopped in my chest. What if blood won out? He was fond of his brother, he wouldn’t want to lose him entirely, no matter what he’d said about me. I braced myself for the blow.

Sirius’ eyes had narrowed. “If that’s what you want. I choose her.” I breathed out again, trying to hide my shock and relief. Did he just choose me over his own family?

Regulus looked at me with obvious disgust. “If that’s your choice,” he spat, his steel-grey eyes turning back to his brother. “But you’ve been warned. Even you must see she’s a target.”

Sirius’ face was stony. “Is that supposed to be a threat?” he asked, his voice like ice. “Because if you hurt her … well, you know what I’m capable of. And I won’t think twice, even if it’s you.”

Regulus sneered. “This is one step too far,” he said as though Sirius hadn’t spoken. “I can no longer call you my brother.” And he turned his back on us and walked off.

Sirius stood there and watched him leave. “You know, I thought he’d turn out all right,” he said eventually. “I thought he’d see sense in the end. He must be softer than I’d thought. Just goes to show, doesn’t it.”

I gave him a quick hug in what I hoped was a reassuring way. “It’s not your fault. You did try.”

He turned to me abruptly. “Don’t take anything he said to heart,” he said, giving my forehead a quick kiss. “It wasn’t personal. It can’t be, he doesn’t know anything about you. Which I think he just proved.”

I was astonished at his reaction. He was worried about how _I_ was feeling? “That’s not what was bothering me.”

He looked surprised. “Then what’s wrong?”

“I was more concerned about you. Your brother, who you did still talk to, has just disowned you.”

He flashed a smile at me. “He’ll come round eventually,” he said, contradicting his earlier assessment of Regulus’ behaviour. Sirius Black, the eternal optimist. “It’s in there somewhere, only in Slytherin they don’t exactly encourage people to be open minded. So it’ll just take a bit longer than I’d hoped. Anyway,” he went on, changing the subject, “it’s nearly dinner time, so we’d better get a move on if we don’t want to miss that.” And he dropped his arm from my shoulder and grabbed my hand instead, leading me downstairs to the Great Hall.

****

Later that week Mary waylaid me in the dorm. She had followed me up the stairs when I went up to drop my bag off before supper and, smiling slyly, fixed her eyes on me. “So, hoo’s it all goin’?” she asked. “Wi’ Sirius, I mean.”

“Better,” I said, sitting on my bed and grinning at her. It felt like eons had passed since we’d had a good talk. “I’ve had to learn to ignore any doubts I might have because, like he said, if I don’t trust him it’s not going to work out. And I do trust him, deep down I do. So I’m just trying not to let anything bother me.”

“An’ does it?” she asked sitting down next to me. “Bother ye, tha’ is.”

“Sometimes,” I admitted. “But I’m getting better at it. I saw some tart from the fan club trying to come on to him the other day – pretty girl, too, you know that brunette from Slytherin who’s in about sixth year? Long curls and a body to die for? Yeah, her – and I even laughed at it. And, I think that before, I might have got all worked up over that.”

“Brilliant,” Mary grinned. “’Cause he’s mad aboot ye, we can all see tha’. So if ye’ve managed t’ work that oot, things shoul’ be bonny from now on, right?”

“I hope so,” I said with a wry smile. “I’m not sure I’d survive another break-up.”

She laughed. “T’ be honest, Laura, I’m no’ sure any o’ us woul’ ge’ through tha’ agin. Pinin’ fer each other, bu’ every time I tried t’ help, ye herded me off. Wouldn’ even le’ me talk t’ ye aboot it.”

I turned to her, surprised. “Really? Was that how you saw it? Because I thought I was doing you a favour, not dragging you down with my moods. I thought you wanted to be with Sebastian.”

“An’ I did, bu’ ye’re my bes’ friend, an’ ye were hurtin’. O’ course I wanted t’ help!”

“I’m sorry,” I said with feeling. I’d said those words a lot this term, I realised.

“Oh, it’s all right,” she said. “I’m jus’ happy tha’ ye’re back t’ normal now.”

“I talked to Bernie, too,” I said. “I felt horrible. I’d made him a promise and then I’d gone back on it right away.”

She nodded. “I though’ ye mus’ have. He’s takin’ it as well as can be expected.”

“This whole thing is my fault,” I said, again ashamed of my behaviour. “Poor Bernie, he was so nice about it, but he wasn’t happy.”

“What did he say?”

“That he understood and he’d most probably been a bit forward anyway in asking. He made it sound like he’d always expected us to get back together anyway, but he wanted to throw his hat in, so to speak.”

“He’s a nice lad,” she said. “Bu’ he’s right. I don’ think anything coul’ keep ye and Sirius apar’ fer too long.”

“In any case, I apologised,” I said, not really sure how to respond to that. “I wish he’d find someone else, though. Not to get him off my back, but because he’s nice, like you said. He deserves to be happy.”

“An’ I’m sure he will be. Jus’ give him some time, he’ll ge’ o’er it.”

“Anyway, enough about me, Mary Macdonald,” I said, changing the subject. “I’ve barely heard from you lately.” I looked at her expectantly.

Mary feigned innocence. “What do ye mean?”

“Well? Sebastian? How’s that going?”

She licked her lips. “Verra nice,” she said, a bit of a dreamy look on her face. “No complaints a’ all, t’ tell the truth. Well, aside from Gerry Stebbins bein’ aroond a lo’, no complaints.”

I laughed. “Ah, poor old Gerry. Though I guess he’s finally got the hint by now?”

“I woul’ hope so,” Mary laughed. “Spendin’ half my time snoggin’ someone else from his dorm, ye’d think he might have worked it oot.”

“And that’s all? Just snogging?”

She blushed a little. “Well, maybe a wee bi’ more than tha’,” she said. “It’s verra nice t’ have a real man agin, ye know?”

“So, how long till you’re sneaking out to spend the night in Ravenclaw Tower?”

“Well, no’ jus’ ye’,” she said. “Bu’ give it a few weeks …” She turned to me suddenly. “Tha’ reminds me, what’s goin’ on wi’ tha’? Are ye still takin’ it slow?”

I hesitated. “Kind of. Or, not really. Because we lost those two weeks, we’ve sort of sped things up to make up for it. And I get the feeling it’ll stay that way.”

“An’ ye’re okay wi’ that?” she asked.

“Yes, I am,” I said, smiling a little nervously. “If I wasn’t, then it’d all stop – he’s made that perfectly clear. Something to do with not wanting to freak me out like Bertram did.”

Mary laughed. “Well, I might have worded it a wee bi’ differently, bu’ aye, tha’s a goo’ poin’. Ye were on edge a lo’ wi’ him, I tol’ ye tha’ at the time. He didn’ mak’ ye smile, no’ lik’ Sirius does.” She paused, eyeing me beadily. “Sirius really does have ye worked oot, doesn’ he?”

“It feels like it,” I said. “And it’s kind of nice, you know, having the assumption being it’s NOT going to happen, rather than that it is? It takes all the pressure away.”

“I can understan’ tha’,” she said, then smiled mischievously. “Bu’ maybe ye want it t’ happen anyway? I’m guessin’ tha’ wi’ Sirius it’s a lo’ more – physical – than it was wi’ Bertram.”

I giggled. “Well, I’m older now, so you have to expect that. And let’s face it, if you look at the two of them there’s no comparison, is there? Sirius is an absolute fox, whereas Bertram …” I paused and it was her turn to giggle before I spoke again. “And to think I once thought Bertram was as good as I was ever going to get.”

We both laughed at that. “Ye definitely ha’ tha’ one wrong.”

“Must have been that goat I sacrificed. The planets aligned for me after all.”

She giggled again. “Well, ye’re happy now, an’ tha’s all tha’ really matters.”

“Yeah, I guess it is,” I said. “And the other difference is, Sirius actually listens to me. You have no idea how much of a relief that is.”

“I can guess,” she said with feeling, then paused again. “Ye know, Laura, I’ve missed this. We don’ talk so much anymore.”

“No, we don’t, do we,” I said. “Probably something to do with new boyfriends. But yeah, I miss it, too.”

She grinned. “Well, if ye can ever drag yerself away from Sirius fer ten minutes, le’ me know an’ we’ll do it agin.”

“Definitely.” I grinned too, even though I realised that dragging myself away from Sirius was in most cases much easier said than done. “Mary, you have my promise.”

****

Unfortunately, not everything kept on going as well as I’d been hoping. In the last week of January Lily ambushed me after supper and I only managed to escape the dorm after an hour or so as she pestered me with Potions revision. Hurrying down to the common room to find Sirius and apologise for being held up, I was surprised to see him in the process of heading out of Gryffindor Tower with James and Peter.

“Where are you going?” I asked, wondering why he was leaving without me.

Sirius paused uncomfortably. “Uh, Laura, I, uh, wasn’t expecting to see you.” He looked searchingly at James and Peter for help. “I thought you were doing revision with Lily tonight.”

“Funny you knew about that when I didn’t,” I said coolly, a sense of dread enveloping me. This evasive behaviour was starting to remind me unpleasantly of Bertram. “What, are you trying to keep me out of the way or something?”

He looked despairingly over my head and I turned to see Lily on the stairs, looking apologetic. “It’s not that, Laura, honestly,” Sirius said, his face flickering from the combination of firelight and the cool glow from a full moon coming through the window. “Look, please, we have to go. I can’t tell you why but whatever you’re thinking, I promise it’s not that.”

James stepped in. “Marauder prank,” he said. “Male bonding thing. Sorry we didn’t tell you.”

I didn’t believe him. I wasn’t even sure I believed Sirius. All the insecurities I had fought so hard to overcome came back again in droves and I struggled to keep the tears at bay.

Sirius had noticed and tried to comfort me. “Laura, you have to trust me on this. We’re not doing anything you wouldn’t want to know about.”

Scowling, I wriggled out of his grasp. “How about you go and do whatever it is that’s so important you couldn’t tell me about it,” I said. “I can wait.”

“You’ll be waiting a while,” Peter said, sniggering.

I raised my eyebrows. “How long does it take to bond males, then?”

James looked hopelessly at Lily while Sirius tried to embrace me again. “It’s not like that, I swear,” he said. “And I wish I could tell you, I really do. Just please, just this once, don’t ask what we’re doing. You can trust me, I promise.”

I pulled away from him. “So it’s like that, is it? I have to trust you, but you obviously don’t trust me. I’m sorry, Sirius, but it has to go both ways.” I swallowed hard, trying not to cry. “And if you can’t do that,” I went on, my voice breaking a little, “then maybe this isn’t going to work after all.”

Sirius, who was starting to look rather distressed, stopped suddenly and turned to me, his expression clearing. “Is that what this is about?” he asked, putting both hands to my face, most probably trying to ensure I didn’t pull away from him again. “You think I don’t trust you?”

I looked at him and nodded, the tears making my vision blurry. “It does look like it. All this secrecy and sneaking around, you know?”

James was fidgeting impatiently. “We need to get going, Padfoot,” he said. “We’ll be late. You can explain tomorrow.”

Sirius looked annoyed and glared over his shoulder. “One minute,” he snapped. “We won’t be any later than usual.”

“What’s going on?” I asked.

He stroked my cheekbone and shook his head. “Not now. But I will tell you eventually.”

I stiffened. “Eventually? So that means you don’t really trust me, do you?”

“Of course I trust you,” he said quietly, and I had the distinct impression he was trying to ensure no one overheard our conversation. “How long have you known about the map? Or James’ Cloak? You really think I tell everyone that sort of thing?”

I smiled behind my tears – he did have a point. “I guess not.”

“So, then, you have to believe that this is something I’ll tell you too,” he said, kissing me gently. “Just not now, because it’s not my secret.” He wiped a tear off my cheek. “And no more of these, either, okay? I hate it when you cry.”

I nodded, swallowing hard in an attempt to calm down, though I still wasn’t completely appeased. Sirius seemed to think I was, though, as he smiled briefly, kissed my forehead and turned away, following James and Peter through the portrait hole.


	43. Duelling lessons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laura’s not happy but Lily puts in a good word for the boys. And then Remus has some bad news.

Lily came over to me as I stared at the back of portrait hole, trying to get my head around what had just happened. Where were the boys going? What were they doing? And why couldn’t I know about it? As though reading my thoughts, she shook her head in frustration. “I _told_ them this was a bad idea,” she muttered crossly.

“So you knew about it?” I asked as she steered me back upstairs.

She hesitated. “Sort of. I knew they were going out tonight, and James asked me to keep you in the dorm so Sirius could go without you knowing. But it was a bad idea from the start.”

“What should he have done, then?”

“Tell you,” she said like it was obvious. “At least that he was going to be out of action tonight. Boys’ night out, something like that. Apparently, though, he was worried about lying to you.”

I smiled grimly. “And he thought sneaking out behind my back was a better idea?”

“You’d think people as smart as those two would’ve known better,” she said, opening the door to our dorm and leading me inside. “I didn’t want anything to do with it, I knew it wouldn’t work. But James … well, let’s just say he can be very persuasive.” She blushed and smiled in an embarrassed kind of way.

“So what’s going on?” I asked, collapsing onto my bed.

She shook her head. “I don’t know either. But they do this every so often, and from what I can gather it’s nothing bad. They’re not seeing other girls or anything like that, if that’s what you’re worried about. It’s just something they’ve been doing for years and they always go together and they’re out almost till dawn. So you might want to tread gently tomorrow, too, ’cause they’ll be a bit tired I expect.”

“And you just accept that?” I asked. “Not knowing what they’re doing?”

“I trust James,” she said simply. “And I think you should trust Sirius, too.”

“But that’s the problem,” I said, staring at the bed canopy. “This whole relationship is supposed to be based on trust. But this has got me wondering if he really does trust me.” I shook my head in frustration. “Like I said, it has to go both ways. And now I don’t know what to do.”

Lily nodded. “Yes, I can understand how that would be a sticking point. But I think it’s really up to you now. If you want to stay with Sirius, you’ll have to take him at his word with this. It’s as simple as that. And he worships the ground you walk on. If you can trust anyone not to hurt you, it’d be him.”

I looked at her helplessly. “It’s just I’ve been trying so hard, to take things as they are and not get worked up about anything. Because I do trust him, deep down. It just feels …” I trailed off, wondering how I could word it so it didn’t sound petty. “It feels like I’m the one who’s doing all the work here. I’ve been trying really hard, because I don’t want it to fail. And now he’s come out and pretty much said, ‘look, it’s all great, only I don’t really trust you.’ It’s like a kick in the guts.”

“I see what you mean,” she said, nodding again. “But I still think it’s worth a try. Put it this way, Laura, there’s a difference between not trusting you and not being able to tell you something. If he says it’s not his secret, then it’s probably not.” I nodded: there was something in that. “Incidentally,” she went on, “how long _have_ you known about the map and the Cloak?”

I considered that. “The night I broke up with Bertram,” I said finally. “Sirius told me about them. Well, he showed me the map, but he told me about the Cloak.”

She looked surprised. “Way back then? He showed you the map then?”

I nodded, wondering why that was so strange.

Lily let out a low whistle. “Well, Laura, if that’s not proof he trusts you, I don’t know what is. I didn’t see the map till Hallowe’en.”

I stared at her, surprised. “Really?”

She nodded. “Really. And we’d been together a month by then.”

Stunned, I thought about that. “Thanks Lily,” I said eventually. “I do feel better.”

Sirius sought me out before breakfast the next morning, bags under his eyes and barely able to stifle a yawn. It looked like Lily was right and the boys had in fact been out till dawn, and I had to give him credit for managing a shower and a shave in that state.

“Laura … I’m so sorry about last night,” he said, embracing me so hesitantly I was sure he thought I was going to pull away, and looking at me searchingly. “You’re okay with it though, aren’t you?” He paused. “ _We’re_ okay?”

I thought it best to be straight with him. “I don’t like being left in the dark, Sirius. With all that sneaking around behind my back, I felt like you were treating me like Bertram did.” His expression changed from hopeful to dismayed, and I held up a finger as he opened his mouth to protest. “But – Lily pleaded your case. And I think if she can trust James with whatever it is you’re doing, then I can trust you.”

Relief flooded his face as he pulled me towards him and kissed me gently. “Then we’re all right?”

Ignoring his question, I asked one myself. “When are you going to tell me what it was about?”

“Eventually, I promise. It’s just that it’s not my secret and I don’t have permission to tell anyone. Not even you.”

“One of the other three, then,” I said. “Isn’t it? The person whose secret it is, that is.”

He nodded. “Yes. Actually, thinking about it, it’s all of the other three.”

“I can accept that. Yes, we’re all right. But Sirius –” I pulled back and looked at him again – “next time you’re planning on having one of those nights out, just tell me, all right?”

“I will,” he said. “You can count on it.”

****

Later that week, I arrived back in the dorm after supper to discover my trunk open and its contents strewn all over my bed and the floor. Gathering them up to put them away, it became very clear very soon that whoever was responsible had also put stink pellets all through my belongings.

“Looks like it’s your turn now, Laura,” Martha said dryly, picking up a shirt and throwing it back to me. “The fan club have been in.”

I made a face as the smell hit me. “Great. I’ve been looking forward to this.”

“But how did they get in?” Lily asked.

“There’s at least a couple in Gryffindor,” said Martha, sorting my clothes from hers on the floor. “Fifth-years, I think.”

“An’ a sixth-year,” said Mary, who was helping me re-pack. “Wendy Savage, if I’m no’ mistaken. Eeww, they really go’ ye good, don’ they?” she added, holding one of my jumpers to her nose. “This stinks!”

“The trouble is,” said Lily after a spell, picking up loose clothes from the floor and trying to sort out who they belonged to, “the smell’s not just on your stuff anymore. It’s infected our clothes as well.” She sat on her bed and made a face. “And the bed hangings.”

In fact, it was even in the Gryffindor and Welsh rugby flags on the wall next to my bed – the fan club had done their job well and the five of us were up till two in the morning trying to disinfect everything. As a result we all overslept the next morning, and I was a good half hour later than usual meeting Sirius in the common room. Fortunately it was a Saturday so I wasn’t running late for any classes, but I still wasn’t thrilled: I didn’t like keeping him waiting.

“What took so long?” he asked from his chair by the fire, where he and James were reading discarded editions of the _Daily Prophet_.

“Overslept. I’m sorry,” I said, not wanting to elaborate. It was my job to deal with the fan club, just as it had been Martha’s two years previously.

Charlotte, however, had other ideas. “Stink pellets,” she said. “Someone put them all through Laura’s trunk. We were up all night cleaning it up.”

The unmistakeable sound of giggling came from a far corner of the room, where Wendy Savage and the two fifth-years we suspected of being in the fan club were evidently watching the results of their actions. Sirius turned swiftly to face them, his expression furious.

“Was that your doing?” he asked, striding over to them and pulling his wand out. “Stink pellets? Very funny, very mature.” They actually shrank back under his glare. “Listen, did you really think I’d break up with her just because she smelled like something from Zonko’s? What sort of person do you think I am?” He shook his head, obviously still fuming. “And if you’ve got a problem with who I date, you take it up with me, not with her, okay?”

The girls nodded, obviously alarmed at this demonstration of his temper, and Martha, who’d been watching the whole encounter, looked like she was even more surprised than they were. “Merlin’s beard,” she muttered. “He’s worse than I thought.”

Sirius had come back to the fire, still looking livid. “Come on, Laura,” he said, grabbing my hand almost roughly, “let’s get out of here. I don’t want to be in the same room as those people.” And he pulled me out the portrait hole, walking so fast I struggled to keep up with him.

Once we were well clear of the tower he pulled me to one side. “Were you planning on telling me?”

“No. It wasn’t that big a deal. It happened, we cleaned it up, it’s over.”

“But it shouldn’t have happened,” he said. “They shouldn’t be doing things like that to you.”

I shrugged. “They’ve done it to all your girlfriends. Why should I be any different?”

“Because you are different,” he said, putting an arm around me. “I’m not going to put up with it.”

“I think you’re being a bit hypocritical,” I said. “You do things like that to people all the time.”

“That’s me,” he said as though it was obvious. “They can do what they like to me, I don’t care. I’m not important. You are.”

I wasn’t convinced. “Sirius, you can’t be defending me all the time. I’m a big girl, I can look after myself. I don’t need you to fight my battles for me.”

He looked a little hurt. “But I want to. If anything happened to you …” His voice trailed off and he kissed my forehead. “But that reminds me,” he said, suddenly more business-like, “Prongs and I have been talking. We want to teach you – and Lily – how to duel.”

He often changed subjects suddenly like that and it took some getting used to. I blinked. “Duel?”

He nodded, looking very serious. “You need to be able to defend yourselves. We won’t always be around to protect you so we’d be happier knowing you’re well equipped to handle what’s out there.”

“Right.” I had to admit my duelling skills weren’t great, and they certainly weren’t a patch on the standard of Sirius and James. “Did you have a particular time in mind or are you just letting me know?”

“We’ve all got Friday afternoons off. Probably then. I’ll check with Prongs and if he’s cleared it with Lily we might start next week.”

“Okay,” I said. “Next week it is.”

He smiled suddenly and gave me a hug. “Excellent. I’ll tell James we’re good to go. Now, hopefully there’s still some breakfast left, I’m starving.” And we headed off downstairs, trying to catch up with the others who had probably already started on their bacon and eggs.

As it turned out, however, Friday wasn’t a good day to start. Remus got a letter on Wednesday after supper advising him that his mother had passed away. She’d been ill for some time but it was a blow, and the boys formed a protective cordon around him. Lily, who was there when he read the letter, told us the story.

“He’s shattered, as you would be,” she said in the dorm. “She hasn’t been well for some time, but Remus is an only child so they were pretty close.”

“Did he even know she was worse?” Charlotte asked, her eyes wide and concern written all over her face. Ever since the news came out she’d been almost frantic with worry about how Remus was coping with it.

Lily shook her head. “It seems Mr Lupin thought she wasn’t that much worse, so he didn’t mention it to Remus in case he got worried unnecessarily. Anyway, they’re catching the Knight Bus tomorrow for the funeral, they should be back on Friday.”

I nodded: Sirius was going too. The boys were so close that any tragedy like this would by definition involve all of them, either in grief or as support for the bereaved. And so the following afternoon we bade them all farewell for a couple of days as they travelled to Wales for the funeral.

It was harder than I’d thought it would be, being at school without Sirius. He’d always been there, for better or worse, and it’s funny how used to things you get. I found myself looking for him in the classes we shared, and in the common room, even though I knew that he wouldn’t be there. However, it did let me spend some time with Mary, and get my homework finished, and I was completely up to date when he, Remus, James and Peter finally got back on Friday afternoon. Which was probably just as well considering how much trouble I had tearing myself away from him. Homework, I had discovered, generally took a back seat when he was around – it always seemed we had more important things to be getting on with.

“How was it?” I probably should have been asking Remus, it was his mother’s funeral after all, but he wasn’t the one I was concerned about.

“It would have been easier if you were there,” Sirius said, holding me tightly. “But at least we got to say goodbye.”

“How are you doing?” I asked, pulling back to look at him and putting my hand on his cheek.

“I’m all right,” he said. “It’s just so … final.”

I nodded sympathetically and gave him a quick squeeze. “And Mr Lupin?”

“Holding up. Probably not so well now Moony is back here, but we can’t do much about that.” We followed Lily and James’ example and looked for an empty classroom somewhere so we could catch up properly.

Quite frankly, this sort of thing happened less often than you might think as we’d found it hard to get much privacy. The common room wasn’t exactly designed with that in mind and besides, Wendy Savage and her cronies were always hanging around. I’d not been invited into the boys’ dorm yet, and knew that invitation – if coming at all – would most probably be months away; and anyway three other people lived there and it wasn’t fair to kick them out. Sirius refused to tell me how they’d got into our dorm so that wasn’t an option, and besides there were four other people living there as well. And while empty classrooms with Imperturbable Charms on the door were a decent alternative, any teacher worth their salt could break the charm and come in anyway, as we had discovered with McGonagall. The best option for not getting caught was the secret passageway behind the mirror on the fourth floor, but it was used fairly often by the boys and some other students who knew about it, and so was more of a last resort.

Truth be told, though, we generally didn’t get very far with our trysts. It was still winter and any disused classrooms and secret passages didn’t have fires or anything in them so were icy cold, and hot air charms always seemed to run out at the most inopportune times. If we tried to light a fire in the grate it would invariably summon Filch (he must have had an alarm set on them or something) which meant that wasn’t really an option either. So no matter what people thought we might have been getting up to, the reality was anywhere we went that had a scrap of privacy, we were more often than not troubled by the cold and therefore kept relatively bundled up.

Regardless of what we actually did, however, the fan club let their imaginations run wild and often pestered me with questions, probably on Elvira’s instructions but as she wasn’t talking to me anymore I couldn’t be sure. “Is it true,” Carol Jones asked one day, “that he’s got his nipple pierced?”

“Of course,” I lied. “Both nipples. And he’s got a chain that connects them, and if you pull on it he gets turned on.”

Another day it was a sixth-year Ravenclaw whose name I didn’t know. “Does he really have a tattoo of a manticore on his shoulder blade?”

I smiled. “No, but he does have one on his left bicep that says ‘Mother’.” From the look on her face, she didn’t even get the joke.

Occasionally these stories got back to Sirius one way or another. He thought it was hilarious and very happily invented all sorts of body art and birthmarks for me to tell them about. It got to the point that the fan club had no idea what to believe any more, which suited us just fine.

Of course they made things up as well which evened it out a bit, quite possibly getting some help from Dione Turpin in the process.

“Jus’ so ye know,” Mary said one day, “the lates’ story I’ve heard is tha’ ye’re pregnant an’ it’s no’ Sirius’.”

“Lovely,” I said. “Though if I was, you’d think I might’ve known about it.”

“Aye, ye’d have t’ be shaggin’ t’ ge’ pregnant, wouldn’ ye? Anyway, Elvira’s now callin’ ye ‘Whore-a’ because o’ it. So if ye hear tha’, tha’s where it started.”

The nickname didn’t last long once James and Sirius got wind of it, but it did take some getting used to, having things like this said about me. Being the subject of rumours and innuendo that weren’t to do with Bea was an unpleasant reality I’d never properly experienced before, but while I found it wearing and occasionally upsetting there wasn’t much I could do about it without breaking it off with Sirius. And that wasn’t an option.

Naturally, there were also stories about Sirius, which people ensured reached my ears. I heard one day that he was working his way through the sixth-years – of both genders – behind my back, each conquest becoming another notch on his bedpost. I was also reliably informed he and I had been caught shagging in a broom cupboard on the second floor by Dumbledore himself and been set separate detentions as a result, but I’d also heard that about Lily and James and I knew that wasn’t true either. Each tale became progressively more wild and outlandish (threesome with a hag and a Roonspoor, anyone?) and I found it incredible that even the most gullible first-year would believe them, let alone Sirius or me.

****

That weekend our attention was caught when the delivery owl dropped my _Sunday Prophet_ on the breakfast table. My mouth dropped when I saw the headline. “Oh Merlin.”

Sirius looked up from his scrambled eggs. “What is it?”

“They’ve killed Nobby Leach!” Leach was a former Minister who had promoted Muggle rights during his reign, and had been found dead in his home the previous evening, the Dark Mark prominent in the sky above.

“You’re kidding,” he said. “But why? He hasn’t been Minister for, what, ten years?”

“He’s been ill for a while,” Charlotte said from next to me. “That was why he quit as Minister, ill health. I heard he was close to death. What’s the point of hurrying it up?”

“He was Muggle-born,” James pointed out. “Maybe they want to erase him from the history books or something.”

Sirius looked disgusted. “This is getting ridiculous. It’s like the Muggle killings they do for fun.”

I looked at the other names in the article. “It wasn’t just Nobby, either. Seems they’ve also got rid of Septimus Clagg.” Clagg, who had been Leach’s deputy, was a well-known pure-blood.

“He’s a blood traitor, of course.” James looked at us from across the table, his expression dark. “They’re taking out all the blood traitors, one by one. I’ll be surprised if they don’t go after us eventually, Padfoot.”

Sirius glanced at James and then back at me. “Make sure your dad’s okay, won’t you?” He’d never even met my father but was as concerned for his welfare as I was.

“He’s pretty cautious,” I said, hoping it wasn’t obvious how worried I was. As the daughter of a police officer I was used to living with some uncertainty, but my family had never been specifically targeted before. “I’m sure he’ll be fine.” I quickly turned the page, looking for some better news.

He didn’t look appeased and turned to Remus, on his other side. “You too, Moony. Your dad could be on the hit list too. Reading between the lines, anyone who doesn’t follow their mantra to the letter is fair game.”

Of course, before long we were poring over the list of that week’s dead, disappeared and tortured. Some we already knew about: Cadmus Bragge had been taken out of school on Thursday following the murder of his father, and Daisy Hookum, a redheaded Hufflepuff a couple of years below us who was dating Charlotte’s brother Clarrie, had also lost a parent – her mother was tortured and left for dead in a field somewhere in Northumberland.

“Agnes Chittock,” Lily read from her seat opposite me. “Cursed so her head is covered in fur and she barks instead of speaking.” I had to admire her ability to read upside down like that. “That’s horrific. Do you think she’s related to Glenda?” Glenda Chittock was a loudmouthed Hufflepuff in about third year, so talkative and obnoxious even we knew who she was.

“Possibly,” said James. “Though if she talks as much as Glenda, they might have done the world a favour.”

“Look at that one,” said Charlotte, her porridge forgotten. “Curtis Sloper and family, found dead with the Dark Mark over their house. Wasn’t he Eileen Sloper’s dad?” Eileen had been a Chaser on the Gryffindor Quidditch team two years previously; Clarrie Trimble had taken her spot after she graduated.

“Looks like it,” I said. “They’ve got them listed here, Eileen’s name is definitely there. Ugh, that’s awful. She was so young! Didn’t even survive a year after she left here.” We’d all known Eileen, James better than anyone, and a cold uncomfortable feeling descended on us.

“Blimey, a Wagstaff,” said Peter, like Lily trying to read upside down. “That’s strange, he’s a Slytherin.” Gilbert Wagstaff was a quiet Slytherin boy in our year.

“Maurice Wagstaff, found dead outside his home,” Sirius read aloud. “Maybe he tried to opt out of the Death Eaters. Some people get cold feet, I’ve heard, and I doubt you can just hand Voldemort your resignation.”

“Not all Slytherins become Death Eaters,” James said. “Maybe they tried to recruit him and he refused. Or maybe he’s a blood traitor like you and me, Padfoot.”

“True, true,” said Remus from Sirius’ other side. He still wasn’t looking great – his eyes had been bloodshot since he returned from his mother’s funeral – but he was plainly trying to proceed with school life as normal. “What’s that one? I can’t make it out.” He reached across and pointed to a name near the bottom of the page.

“Berenice Shingleton,” I read. “Disappeared without a trace on Tuesday. You think she’s related to Gaspard?” Shingleton, a Ravenclaw, had graduated the previous year.

“Wouldn’t surprise me,” Lily said. “Gaspard was pretty smart, if she’s anything like him they could have kidnapped her to try to get her to work for them. That’s if she wasn’t recruited, I suppose.”

Martha nodded. “Yeah, I’ve heard some of those disappearances are due to them turning. They get taken off to little Death Eater camps and brainwashed. Either that or they’re just not game to show their faces anymore in decent society.”

Flippant as it sounded, Martha’s comment lightened the mood and we finished breakfast feeling a little better than we had previously. James and Sirius, however, were still deep in thought and held Lily and me back as we moved to stand up.

“We definitely need to start those duelling lessons,” James said gravely. “This Friday, after lunch. Book it in. And if we can get one done sooner we will.”

“How’s the homework situation?” Sirius asked. “Can you spare an hour or two today?”

Lily and I looked at each other. I had a Potions essay to finish and a Charms assignment that just needed proof-reading so I was probably okay, especially considering I had two free periods on Monday mornings. “It’s fine with me,” I said.

“Me too,” Lily said.

“Right, then, just after lunch? I’ll see if I can get us a spare classroom.” James was all business and as Head Boy would undoubtedly be able to find us somewhere appropriate. Lily and I nodded our agreement, and the boys looked at each other and grinned.

James and Sirius were as good as their word, and after lunch Lily and I were led to a large disused classroom on the third floor. “I’ve cleared it with McGonagall,” James said on the way up. “Said we needed it for some practical exercises before our NEWTs. Which I suppose is true, in a way. And we want to be absolutely clear,” he went on, looking at us sternly, “that this is _only_ as a last resort. We don’t want either of you joining in a fight if you don’t absolutely _have_ to.”

“We’re starting with the basic stuff,” Sirius added. “Disarming, Impediment Jinx, Shield Charm, that sort of thing. Just to make sure you’ve got it all down pat before we move on to the harder ones.”

“And Padfoot’ll be partnering you, Lils, and I’ll be partnering Laura,” James said, grinning. “For some reason we’re not particularly keen to hex you two.”

We could already cast these spells reasonably well but the boys wanted to hone our timing, reaction speed and spell strength, and after a couple of hours they appeared pleased with our improvement. “Doing well,” James said as I threw him back his wand. I’d managed to Disarm him and had even hit him with an Impediment Jinx when he had his guard up. My Shield Charm had held up against the first half dozen hexes he threw at it, but I’d not been able to shatter his no matter what I tried. It was, however, progress.

Finally they deemed the lesson over. “Right, well done,” said James, smiling broadly as we sat down, exhausted, on some old chairs. “You’re both doing really well. Back here after lunch on Friday?”

“Sure,” Lily panted. This sort of thing was very tiring, we were discovering. I just nodded my agreement.

“Good,” said Sirius, also smiling. “We’ll get you trained up properly yet.”


	44. Valentine's Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluff, fan club sabotage, fluff, stories of past experiences, fluff, an unexpected excursion, fluff, Mary, and fluff. Did I mention this chapter may be a bit fluffy? Don’t say you weren’t warned. :D

The year was wearing on, and with twice weekly duelling lessons, exams getting ever closer and our workloads increasing with equal velocity, I was discovering just how difficult it could be to stay on top of your homework when your boyfriend is constantly within easy reach. I was soon in grave danger of falling behind, but I couldn’t drag myself away from him for long enough to actually finish an assignment without being distracted – when it was just the two of us, it was unnervingly easy to forget other people even existed.

This all probably wasn’t helped by the fact Sirius stopped going to Professor Slughorn’s parties, arguing that even aside from the fact Slughorn still didn’t know my name, with the amount of homework we had he couldn’t justify spending his very limited free time with a teacher instead of with me. While I agreed with the sentiment, it did mean the free night I might have had every fortnight or so, in which I could have tried to get on top of everything, was taken away. Most agreeably so, admittedly, but still I could probably have used that time in a more productive way, at least in the way my dad would have defined the word ‘productive’. Even when we made a point of studying as part of a group so we might actually get something done, things had a habit of turning against us. An example of this happened one evening in the second week of February.

After dinner on the night in question Sirius and I went up to the common room along with James, Lily, Remus and Peter to get some homework done, turfing out some second-years from our favourite spot by the fire so we could take up residence. I wanted to finish my Potions essay and so headed to the dorm to get the textbooks and notes I would need, taking longer than usual because my copy of _Advanced Potion-Making_ had managed to drop right down to the bottom of my trunk. When I came back down the stairs, Sirius was on the sofa with a mouthful of pink bubbles and the others were trying unsuccessfully not to laugh.

I sat down next to him, my arms full of books and parchment. “What happened?”

“Wendy Savage,” Peter said. “That sixth-year giggler. Just sat down right on Padfoot’s lap and tried to snog him.”

Sirius was shaking his head. “Got the tongue in and everything,” he said, bubbles floating away from him as he spoke. “She caught me off guard.”

“Ugh.” My head spun around in search of the girl in question, who was sitting in a corner looking distinctly disgruntled. “But why the pink bubbles?”

Remus smiled broadly. “We had to _Scourgify_ him. He wanted to get rid of the taste.”

“I think the idea was that you would come down the stairs and catch them at it, so you’d think he was cheating on you and break it off,” James said, chuckling. “Aside from the bonus of her getting a snog, of course. But you took too long and he got rid of her before you came down.”

I shook my head in frustration – sometimes it felt like they’d try anything to break us up, and it could be a bit wearing – as James conjured a goblet and filled it using _Aguamenti_ so Sirius could rinse his mouth out.

“Thanks, Prongs,” he muttered as the last of the soap bubbles floated away. “Who knew she’d try something like that?”

“Don’t tell me you’re surprised,” Remus said. “It’s not like it hasn’t happened before. You just weren’t expecting it.”

“He’s right,” Remus said, still smiling. “They just needed someone else with enough guts to carry it off. Which apparently Wendy Savage has.”

Lily was shaking her head. “I can’t believe I went out with her brother.”

“Nah, Lance was all right,” I said. “He can’t help what his sister’s like.” After all, I was the last person who should be judging someone based on their sister’s character.

Sirius was making a face. “It’s still there,” he said. “Right, Laura, you have to fix this. Get the taste of her out of my mouth: the last thing I want is to be tasting Wendy Savage all night.”

I knew what that meant. Smiling (I admit a little triumphantly), I looked over at where Wendy was watching what was going on by the fire with disappointment and frustration etched on her face. Putting my books down on the sofa next to me, I moved onto his lap and kissed him deeply.

After a minute or two I pulled away and grinned at him, before turning to Peter who was making gagging noises. “You shut up, I was doing a public service,” I scolded, though I was still smiling.

“Yeah, but did it have to take so long?”

“Of course it did,” I said. “I had to make sure I got in everywhere. You never know just where she might have contaminated.” James, Lily and Remus laughed as I turned back to Sirius, who was suppressing a smile. “Did it work?”

He considered, his tongue moving around inside his mouth. “You know, I think it did. Thanks.” He smiled at me.

“Good,” I said, successfully (though with difficulty) resisting the temptation to stay just where I was and repeat the treatment, and getting off him. “Maybe now I can finish that Potions essay?”

****

And then, just in case we didn’t have enough distractions to take us away from our studies, before we knew it Valentine’s Day was upon us. Unfortunately, though, February fourteenth was on a Tuesday that year, so any activity was tempered by the fact we had to attend classes.

As I got dressed that morning I looked at the racy underwear the girls had bought me for my birthday the previous year, wondering if I should put it on. After all, it was Valentine’s Day, and I suspected Sirius would appreciate the extra effort. In the end, however, after thinking about it a little longer, I opted not to – for the top half, at least. Much as he would appreciate the nice bra, I reasoned, he would appreciate no bra that much more. And, as had been said before, they were small enough that I could easily get away with going without for one day.

As I expected, he greeted me in the common room before breakfast with a soft kiss and a promise there would be more to come. “I know we’re going out tonight,” he whispered, “but we can probably make the most of today as well, don’t you think?”

I grinned, thinking, _you don’t know the half of it_. And on the way downstairs to breakfast I pulled him into an empty classroom and put his hand underneath my shirt. “A little surprise for you,” I said as his eyes opened wide with surprise and a broad smile appeared on his face.

“This is for me?”

“Well, it’s not like I did it for James. And I thought you’d like to know.”

He dropped his head down towards mine so our foreheads were resting on each other, his hands busy underneath my shirt. “Oh, Laura. That’s just … that’s just …” His voice trailed off, but I knew I’d had the desired effect.

Suddenly he stopped, straightened up and spoke again, his voice stern this time. “But you shouldn’t have told me now. I’m not going to be able to concentrate on _anything_ today. Not now I know.”

I just reached up and kissed him, a smile on my face as well. “I thought that was a risk worth taking.”

Sirius did indeed look like he was having trouble concentrating in Transfiguration, which we had first thing after breakfast. Even Professor McGonagall noticed and singled him out more than once to make sure he was actually paying attention. It got so bad that on the way to Herbology James started quizzing him about it.

“What’s with you today, Padfoot?” he asked as we all made our way towards the greenhouses.

Sirius just shook his head. “Maybe later. Let’s just say I’ve something else on my mind.”

James looked at me questioningly, his eyebrows raised, but I put on my most innocent expression and pretended not to know what he was talking about. After all, like I’d told Sirius, it wasn’t like I’d done it for him.

Finally Herbology finished and Sirius and I had nothing until after lunch, so we headed as quickly as we could to somewhere a little more private. I followed him to the fifth floor where he led me to a statue labelled _Gregory the Smarmy_ , tapping it with his wand and saying, “ _Effugio_.”

I looked at him as the statue came away from the wall to reveal another secret passageway. “Is this an internal passage or one that goes to Hogsmeade?”

“Hogsmeade,” he said as we went inside and lit our wands, and he conjured up some torches and large floor cushions. “But I don’t think we’ll be disturbed here with any luck. Now,” he went on, turning to me as the door closed behind us, “where were we?”

I pulled him towards me and kissed him as deeply as I could, wanting to make the most of our first Valentine’s Day together. He responded in kind but his hands were busy as we kissed, unfastening my black school robes and easing them off my shoulders to reveal the white shirt underneath.

There he stopped, and I looked at him, somewhat surprised my shirt hadn’t received the same treatment. After all, it wasn’t like it was the first time he’d seen my breasts, though other occasions had been a little rushed as we battled against school timetables and the risk of being caught in whatever liaison spot we had found. I had no intention of being sprung half naked in an abandoned classroom by Professor McGonagall.

Sirius looked at my undoubtedly confused expression and smiled mischievously. “We’ve got over an hour,” he said, “and I want to savour this.” And he pulled out his wand and pointed it at my shirt. “ _Aguamenti_.”

I grinned. Of course. He was going for the wet t-shirt effect, and the thin white shirt responded admirably. I was drenched to the skin but it was incredibly erotic, and I just stood there as he slowly unbuttoned my shirt, opening it to reveal only an inch or so of skin across my chest as the wet fabric clung to the rest of me like it was painted on, and then dropping to his knees and resting his face against it.

If I was honest, whenever I’d read about a scene like this in a romance novel I’d always wondered what the girl did on these occasions. But at that point, as I stood there and ran my fingers through his hair, I knew. You just enjoyed it. After all, it’s not every day you can reduce someone to their most animal instincts and it gave me a feeling of power and accomplishment, as well as goosebumps all over. If we’d been sleeping together by this point I knew that would have been how it would have ended up.

Eventually he pulled away for just long enough to peel my wet shirt off me as he propelled me backwards. His wand soon ended up on the floor, though, as he turned his attention back to me. If only this could last forever, I thought, this was what it was all about. I didn’t even mind when his hands started to move further down, as it felt like something I actually wanted to do just then.

But then, all of a sudden, he stopped and pulled away from me. I looked at him – what had happened? Had I done something wrong?

“What?” I asked, not sure if I wanted to hear the answer. “It’s not lunch time already, is it?”

He was sitting up by now, separated from me by at least a couple of feet. “I’m sorry, Laura, but we have to stop this. Now.”

“Why?” I asked, confused.

He just shook his head. “Believe me, we have to stop this. Otherwise …” His voice trailed off again, but I had a good idea of what he meant. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to stop if we kept going, and even though it was something I had been actively considering I knew that right then, in that tunnel, wasn’t when I wanted that to happen.

“Okay. Sure, that’s fine.” I pulled my shirt back on and reached for my wand to do a hot air charm to dry it off.

He was still sitting apart from me, not looking at me as he shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he said with obvious regret. “You’re just too …”

“Too what?” I didn’t mean to ask the question but it was out of my mouth before I could stop it.

He hesitated, finally lifting his eyes to meet mine, and he looked almost shy and embarrassed. “Um … you didn’t want to … help? No, not that,” he went on hurriedly. “But I wondered … you know, give me a hand …”

I thought about it. It was something I knew nothing about, but then again I had to learn it at some point, didn’t I? “Uh … okay – but I don’t really know what to do.”

He grinned. “That’s all right,” he said, reaching for my hand. “I’ll guide you through.”

****

That night, James and Sirius had arranged to take Lily and me into Hogsmeade for a drink after dinner in further recognition of the day. We sat in the common room with Remus and Peter, the Marauder’s Map spread open on the table in front of us, waiting for patrols to end in the appropriate corridors so we could make our way to the mirror on the fourth floor, behind which was the roomiest of the many secret passageways into the village. We wouldn’t all fit underneath the Invisibility Cloak so this was seen as the best way of managing it.

I had discovered that day, as Clio probably had the previous year, that as Sirius’ girlfriend I received a number of cards purporting to be from various boys in my year. However, the fact I knew the handwriting of many of the boys in question and these didn’t match, and that several were written in the same hand and with the same scented purple ink, told me Elvira and the fan club were responsible. I supposed they thought if I had another offer I might dump Sirius and take it up. Yeah, right, like _that_ was going to happen. I’d left him once, and it had almost killed me. I had no intention of doing it again.

Peter had received a card that day from a girl called Doris, apparently a sixth-year Hufflepuff, and was fussing about whether she was up to his lofty standards, and if he should invite her to Hogsmeade as well. We couldn’t properly offer advice – whether to let a girl in on some of their lesser secrets (like where the tunnels were) was by agreement the decision of the boy concerned – but James and Sirius suggested it was probably a bit early on in the relationship, if you could even call it that, to be doing that sort of thing.

Remus had received half a dozen or so cards and was looking rather pleased with himself. He knew some of them were from the fan club, looking for a way in to get close to Sirius, but Charlotte had given him one and so had a couple of other girls in our year, and he had a bit of a grin on his face as he put them in his bag, one by one. For some reason he seemed determined not to act on any of them, but like anyone else he appreciated the ego trip.

“How many cards did you get, Padfoot?” asked James, watching Remus with his collection.

“Didn’t count,” Sirius said. There was a wastepaper basket next to his seat and every time another owl arrived with a card he just threw it away without opening it. Part of me was secretly amazed and rather impressed by how blasé he was about the whole thing. “There was only one that I was interested in.” He grinned at me.

“At least there were no chocolates this year,” said Remus.

Sirius groaned. “Tell me about it. But Wormtail had an interesting time, didn’t he?” The groan disappeared and the boys shared a laugh, Peter so embarrassed it looked like he was searching for a cushion to hide beneath. Lily and I just looked at each other, confused.

“Padfoot got some chocolates last year with a love potion in them,” James explained, smiling broadly. “From Greta Catchlove, you know, the blonde Ravenclaw who keeps trying to hex Laura in Potions.”

“Otherwise known as Deputy Chief Giggler,” Sirius said, grimacing a little.

“Thing was,” Remus said, a smirk crossing his otherwise pleasant face, “he didn’t eat them, knowing what might be in store. Chucked them out without opening them. He was still with Clio, after all. But Wormtail saw them in the bin and, not realising why they were there, took them out again and had some!”

“He ran off towards the Ravenclaw common room,” said Sirius, now laughing, “going on and on about how wonderful Greta was and how much he loved her. It was hilarious.”

“Yeah, he ended up scratching at the entrance to Ravenclaw Tower, trying desperately to get in,” James went on, ignoring Peter who was very obviously getting more embarrassed by the second. “But he couldn’t figure out the answer to the question. So Moony found Hector Bole nearby and talked him into going inside and telling Greta there was a Gryffindor bloke out in the hall trying to get in to her.”

“Apparently she couldn’t get out fast enough,” said Remus. “Tripped over Elvira Vablatsky, of all people, in her rush to the door. And Prongs and I were waiting outside, under the Invisibility Cloak, watching for her reaction when she opened the door and saw Pete instead of Sirius!”

“You can imagine the look on her face,” said James. “Absolutely priceless. Looked everywhere for Padfoot and then it finally dawned why Wormtail was fawning all over her. Got what she deserved, though – you can’t go around slipping people love potions.”

“Too right,” said Peter, clearly thankful that the conversation had turned from laughing at him to having a go at Greta for her methods of finding a boyfriend.

“Did you say anything to her?” Lily asked Sirius, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes.

“Nup, I wasn’t even there,” he replied, putting his arm around me. “I’d gone to find Clio. It was Valentine’s, after all. Not that she was that keen on seeing me, from memory. I was in a bit of a bad mood that day.”

“That’s right,” I said, remembering. “You were in a foul mood for ages. Clio thought it was her fault.”

“Yes, I know,” he said with a grin. “It wasn’t, of course, but we ended up breaking up over it anyway. Though that turned out to be a good thing.” He leaned in and kissed my cheek.

“Right,” said James suddenly and with authority, his eyes on the map. “Filch has left the fourth floor and is now patrolling the third, so it should be safe for us to make it to the passage without being caught. Dumbledore’s in his office so I dare say he’s out for the night. Slughorn’s on duty tonight and he’s still on the ground floor, and Mrs Clay is on the sixth floor, but she’s on the northern side so we’ll probably be all right. Shall we?” He stood up and offered Lily his arm. Sirius did the same with me, and, waving, we headed out the portrait hole for a night out.

****

We learned soon enough the next morning that Peter had been right not to invite Doris into Hogsmeade that night. He sought her out at breakfast time, only to discover she had sent him the card after losing a bet and was mortified he had taken it at all seriously.

“Typical,” Sirius said when Peter returned to the Gryffindor table looking disappointed. His voice was steady but I could tell he was trying his hardest to stifle a grin, let alone a laugh. He was right: that sort of thing _was_ typical of Peter’s love life. I knew how he felt, though – only two years earlier I’d been asked to dance at the Yule Ball for much the same reason, so I was a little more feeling to his plight than Sirius and James perhaps were.

“Don’t worry about it,” Sirius said, leading me away just after I had offered Peter some words of encouragement. “He’ll get over it soon enough. It’s not like this sort of thing hasn’t happened before.”

“Yeah, but the more it happens the harder it is to get over,” I said. “He was so hopeful!”

Sirius laughed. “That he was. Quite funny to watch, actually. Now,” he said, “I was thinking after we got back last night …”

Oh yes? This could lead anywhere. “What about?”

“I think it’s time you were invited into the inner sanctum,” he said as we wandered down the stairs towards the Potions classroom. “Saturday okay with you?”

The inner sanctum? That had to mean the dorm, the infamous Marauders’ Den. “Are you sure?”

He nodded. “Absolutely. In fact, it probably shouldn’t have taken this long.”

This was interesting. I knew none of his previous girlfriends had received this invitation, and I also knew I hadn’t even outlasted Dione Turpin at this point, let alone Martha or Clio. I hadn’t really expected an invitation this side of NEWTs, let alone this side of Easter, they were that strict about their privacy. (Even though Lily had been inside, James was that keen on her we all saw it as a special case. Girlfriends just didn’t go there.) Maybe Lily and Martha were actually right. Or maybe he had ulterior motives …

I punched his arm. “Sirius Black, are you just trying to get me into bed?”

He grinned. “Of course I am. Why else would I ask you upstairs like that?” He put his arm around me and gave me a squeeze, his voice suddenly more serious. “I hope you don’t really think that’s all I’m after, though, Laura.”

I hugged him back. “Not really. And it’d probably be a bit unfair if I did. Let’s face it, going slowly – not that we still are, but we started off that way – that was _your_ idea.”

Sirius organised for the dorm to be empty for the whole period between lunch and supper, though he acknowledged an arrangement like that could never be absolutely fool proof so there was always the vague possibility of an interruption. On the day in question he led me up the stairs, tapping the handle with his wand to unlock the door.

It was just as Mary had described though rather neater, and I suspected there had been a bit of a clean-up before my arrival. The bikini babe pictures had gone from the wall (I was unsure whether that was permanent or temporary, but I wasn’t about to ask), but the motorbikes and Quidditch posters were still there, and there was definitely a shrine to Lily next to what had to be James’ bed. I wondered idly if he took it down when she came in or if she was just used to it by now. On the back of the door was pinned a well-thumbed piece of parchment, yellowed and fading, on which their strongly-held code of honour was written. Curious, I paused and read it. It was surprisingly short, for something that held so much sway, but it did seem to cover everything:

> _THE MARAUDER’S CODE_
> 
>   1. _Secrets may (and should) be shared within the group, but not outside. You may only tell someone another Marauder’s secrets with their express permission._
>   2. _Loyalty to the other Marauders must outrank loyalty to any other person._
>   3. _Any girlfriends – past, present or hoped-for – are automatically off limits to the other three. Past girlfriends may occasionally be approached ONLY with the original boy’s approval._
>   4. _All attempts to get a girl must be supported (though jokes are permissible)._
>   5. _Jinxing anyone needs a good reason. Unless they’re a Slytherin._
> 


Under this last point something had been scrawled, probably much later than the original text was put down, and in what looked like James’ handwriting. _And jinxing Snivellus doesn’t need a reason at all._ I stifled a giggle.

Sirius saw me looking at it. “That’s years old now,” he said with a shrug. “We should probably take it down before it falls down, we all know it by heart anyway.”

“You really take all this seriously, don’t you,” I said.

He shrugged again. “It’s what you do for your friends. I wouldn’t have thought it was that unusual.” He changed the subject by steering me to one of the beds, the one with pictures of motorbikes on the wall next to it. I’d already picked that one as his, even without the decorations – there was something about the way it was all set up that just said, ‘Sirius’.

“Anyway” he went on, sneaking a kiss on my forehead, then pushing me backwards onto his bed and leaning over me seductively, “I don’t think you came up here to talk about them, did you?”

I laughed. “No, probably not.”

He grinned mischievously, pulling the curtains closed around us, bathing everything in a scarlet glow. “Just what I wanted to hear.”

****

I sought out Mary in the common room a week or two later – it had been ages since we’d had a proper chat. “I’ve barely seen you lately, young lady,” I said, sitting down at the rickety table where she was struggling with Herbology homework. “Where have you been hiding?”

She grinned. “Aye, ’cause ye’ve bin sittin’ twiddlin’ yer thumbs lookin’ fer me, right? Or have ye bin busy too?”

I blushed. “Maybe. Just a little. But?”

“Okay, I’ve bin spendin’ a lo’ o’ time in Ravenclaw Too’er,” she said. “They can be verra good t’ do homework wi’, they know a lo’ an’ they’re happy t’ share.”

“That sounds familiar,” I said. “So why aren’t you there tonight?”

She grimaced. “Seb doesn’ do Herbology. An’ if I’m in here then, who knows, ye might tak’ pity on me an’ help oot.” The grimace disappearing, she looked up and winked at me.

I took the hint. “I’m sorry, Mary, I’ve been ignoring you, haven’t I?”

“No more than I’ve bin ignorin’ ye. Bu’ a’ leas’ we can gossip after we go t’ bed.”

“Only if you’re in bed before I go to sleep,” I said.

“Or if ye’re back afore I go t’ sleep,” she threw back. I grinned guiltily – she did have a point. “Anyway,” she went on, “whats the deal t’night? Why are ye no’ wi’ Sirius?”

I smiled again. “He’s out with the boys. Took off with James and Peter an hour or so ago.”

She nodded. “Tha’s one o’ those nights ye were tellin’ me aboot, right? When ye said ye had t’ tak’ a leap o’ faith bu’ ye didn’ think he was doin’ anything too bad.”

I nodded too, thankful I didn’t need to say anything else. Mary had heard all about the mini-fight the previous month, but agreed with Lily that I needed to take Sirius at his word. Then again, I suspected none of them wanted us to break up again – that might be too much for anyone to deal with, us included.

“It is good, in a way,” I said. “I can catch up on some homework, which you may have noticed is falling by the wayside a bit.” I smiled wickedly. “And, if you’re around, I can bug you.”

“Or help wi’ Herbology,” she said pointedly.

I conceded defeat. “Okay, you’ve talked me into it,” I said, pulling my own Herbology books out of my bag. “What are you having trouble with?”

 


	45. The war finds Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius discovers that not going to Slughorn’s parties is in fact a very good strategy, Lily gets some bad news, and the whole school finds a distraction from the war.

Despite the fact we were all growing up and should be past petty schoolyard rivalries, the hostility Sirius and James had with Severus Snape hadn’t settled down much at all – as demonstrated by the addition to their code – and they rarely let go any opportunity to hex one another, especially if Lily wasn’t around. While I didn’t exactly approve of this behaviour, it was usually something I could ignore if I wanted to (and let’s face it, I didn’t really want to think about someone like Snape any more than was absolutely necessary). Sometimes, however, I was drawn into it as well, as was demonstrated when Sirius and I were late leaving Potions on Wednesday morning due to Snape deliberately knocking our table on his way out so half our ingredients ended up on the floor. Professor Slughorn, noticing we were the last to leave, bustled over just as we pulled our bags onto our shoulders.

“Sirius!” he beamed, completely ignoring me as usual. “It seems so long since we’ve had a proper chat. You haven’t been to any of my little suppers lately.” He paused as his eyes followed Sirius’ arm resting on my shoulders, and I saw what could only be described as shock registering on his face. Naturally he hadn’t noticed before, though – it had only been a couple of months, after all, and I wasn’t in the Slug Club so there was a good chance he couldn’t understand why Sirius had even noticed me. “I’m sure Miss Campbell would be happy to let you have one night out.”

“With all due respect, Professor,” Sirius said with exaggerated politeness, “that’s why I haven’t been coming.” Slughorn looked confused. “You’ve been teaching her for almost seven years and you still don’t know what her name is. I think everyone deserves that little bit of respect.”

“Come tomorrow night,” Slughorn said, seemingly unfazed and ignoring me again. “Eight o’clock. We have some very special guests joining us for the gathering – your cousin Bellatrix and her husband. I thought you and Regulus would enjoy having a little reunion with her. Particularly you, since you see so little of her these days.”

Sirius’ face closed off abruptly and he turned towards the door. “Thanks, sir, but not this week.”

Professor Slughorn looked disappointed as we left the dungeon, but Sirius was doing a very good job of ignoring him so I followed suit. Heading back upstairs, I gave him a friendly jab on the arm. “What, you don’t want to see Cousin Bellatrix?”

“Not particularly,” he said sourly. “Last time I saw her she almost killed me. And she married Rodolphus Lestrange, who I’m pretty sure is a Death Eater. Let’s just say that Slughorn has interesting taste in guests. I’m surprised Dumbledore is allowing it.”

“Worst case scenario I’m sure we could organise you a detention for tomorrow night,” I said, trying to improve his mood.

“That may not be a bad idea,” he said, smiling again, the bitterness thankfully dissipating. “Anyway, for a second I thought he might actually invite you to come along as well, to try to get me there. But no, he just wanted you to give me permission to go. Getting your name wrong in the process.”

I laughed. “Made a nice change, though. Campbell. I’ve gone from Irish to Scottish!”

As it turned out a detention wasn’t necessary, as Sirius simply ensured he was nowhere to be found when it was time for James, Lily and Charlotte to leave for Professor Slughorn’s office the following evening. That is, he was in a disused classroom with me making the most of a little privacy, an Imperturbable Charm on the door to minimise our chances of interruption, and we didn’t go back to Gryffindor Tower until it was well past eight o’clock.

This turned out to be a wise move on Sirius’ part. Lily and James came back to the tower well before the usual finishing time for Slughorn’s parties, both looking furious. They stormed over to where we were doing some homework with Peter, Remus and Martha by the fire.

“I cannot _believe_ Slughorn allowed that,” Lily fumed.

“Allowed what?” asked Martha, putting down her Astronomy textbook.

“Bellatrix Lestrange,” glowered James, his glasses halfway down his nose. “And bloody Rodolphus. Sorry to speak badly of your family, Padfoot –”

Sirius looked surprised. “Don’t apologise, I know what she’s like. Black by name, black by nature. Just like the rest of them. Doesn’t matter if she’s married, she still counts.” He paused, his expression dark. “And don’t forget, I know first-hand what she’s capable of.”

James nodded savagely. “Yeah, well, they just tried to recruit us,” he said, adjusting his glasses with a very ugly look on his face. “Death Eaters, trying to recruit us for Voldemort. Can you believe it?”

I was lost for words, and by the looks of things so were the others. Remus found his voice first. “They tried to recruit you?”

Lily just about had steam coming out of her ears. “Yes. Us! At Hogwarts, right under Dumbledore’s nose. The nerve of them!”

“They wanted you, too, Padfoot,” James told Sirius. “Asked for you specifically. But of course you weren’t there so they went for young Regulus instead.”

The ugly look on Sirius’ face now matched James’, and I was almost frightened of both of them. Certainly if I didn’t know them as well as I did I would have been. “Oh they did, did they,” he muttered viciously. “The old hag will be delighted. Did he sign up on the spot?”

Lily had calmed down somewhat. “Actually, I don’t think he did,” she said. “He did seem interested though.” She looked up at Sirius, who still looked furious. “I know you thought he’d turn out okay, but I’m not so sure.”

“Neither am I anymore,” he said. “He and I had a bit of a row in the corridor at the start of term, didn’t we Laura?” I nodded and squeezed his hand comfortingly.

“Of course, we went straight to Dumbledore and reported it,” said James, who also appeared calmer. “He was livid. Marched straight down to Sluggy’s office and physically ejected them from the room. Full body bind and then a Banishing Charm – they’re in his office now for the Hit Wizards to collect. Death Eaters, inside Hogwarts by invitation, trying to recruit his students. I’ve never seen him so angry.”

“What’s going to happen?” I asked.

“Well obviously Slughorn’s not going to be able to invite people like them back again,” said Lily. “If Dumbledore allows the parties to continue at all, that is.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t be surprised if this is the end of the Slug Club forever,” said James. “Slughorn will be devastated, but it’s his own stupid fault. _Why_ he invited them in the first place …”

“He always liked Bella,” said Sirius. “Raved to me about her when I first started here. I think if I’d been in Slytherin I would have been invited to join the Club straight up, rather than after a couple of months like it was.”

“Besides,” Lily added, “Slughorn’s always tried not to take sides in the war, he likes to stay neutral and choose friends from both sides.”

Just then Charlotte climbed through the portrait hole with her brother Clarrie and a handful of Slug Club members from other years. “What happened?” she asked, looking at Lily and James. “I was being hassled by Barty Crouch and suddenly Dumbledore appeared and broke up the party.”

“Slughorn’s dear guests were trying to recruit students for Voldemort,” Sirius said icily. “Prongs and Lily got the once over, as did Regulus by the sounds of things.”

Charlotte sank into an empty armchair, shock etched across her face. “They what?”

“You heard,” Lily said archly. “So we went and found Dumbledore and told him what they were doing. Hence him getting them away from the students pronto.”

Charlotte’s brown eyes were wide behind her glasses. “I wondered what they were doing, all cloistered up in the corner,” she said, “but I never thought of that. How they’d have the nerve …”

“Bet you’d rather be hassled by young Barty,” James said.

Charlotte nodded. “In comparison with what you were hearing, yes, I’d say that details of the several hundred brilliant things his father’s done at the Ministry is definitely a better option. Although I don’t know why he’s bothering with me at all – he’s a bit young for me.” Barty was a fifth-year who always tried to talk himself up thanks to a successful father, who was touted as a possible future Minister of Magic. “So, does this mean no more Slug Club?”

“Quite possibly,” said Lily. “We were just wondering about that.”

“Darn it,” Martha said with exaggerated disappointment. “Now we’ll never know what we were missing, will we?” And she grinned at me, Remus and Peter, those of us who had never received an invitation.

“It wasn’t much,” Sirius said. “Just a stack of students feeling self-important and Sluggy plying them with food and alcohol in an attempt to make them like him just in case they end up being successful. Nice if you need your ego propping up, but otherwise a bore.”

James was nodding. “Yep, that pretty much sums it up.”

Lily raised her eyebrows. “And of course you two never needed your egos stroked, the rest of the school was doing that anyway, weren’t they?”

Sirius grinned; he had plainly relaxed a bit. “Absolutely. Why rely on old Sluggy when you can have far more attractive people stroking your ego? Or other parts of you, if that’s what you prefer.” I pretended to hit him and he ducked, laughing. “What?” he asked innocently once he’d recovered himself. “Just telling it like it is.”

I just groaned. “You’re a nightmare, you know that?”

“Of course he does,” James said with a grin. “I’m only surprised it’s taken you this long to notice.”

****

Despite the dramas of the soon-to-be-defunct Slug Club, the following morning our attention was diverted when the post owls arrived, as one swooped down on Lily and dropped a letter off. We all looked at her seriously as she opened it: owls had come to mean news about her mother, and we were hopeful that this time it was good. However, her face quickly dropped and James put a comforting arm around her.

“What happened?” Charlotte asked.

“It’s Mum. She’s had another relapse,” Lily said, tears forming in her eyes. “Dad’s pretty worried, he wants me to go home this weekend in case she gets worse.”

“I’m sure we can arrange that,” James said. “Let me have a word to Dumbledore, he’s pretty good with things like that.”

Lily looked up at him gratefully. “Oh, would you? That’d be fantastic, thank you. I don’t know that I’d be able to do it myself just now.”

She left that very afternoon on the Knight Bus, straight after Defence, which was her only class on Fridays. James, perhaps surprisingly, had stayed – though it was just for an illness, not for a death, so I suspected he saw this as more of a personal time for Lily’s family. In any case, however, it was a little strange seeing him around the castle without her that weekend. The James and Lily relationship was now so ingrained with us it felt somewhat surreal seeing one continuously without the other.

We weren’t the only ones to notice this. I heard several whispered comments throughout the Great Hall at mealtimes on Saturday and Sunday, mostly just wondering where the Head Girl had gone, but some were less flattering. Charon Avery, for example, was very vocal in his thoughts about the whole thing as we wandered past him as a group in the courtyard on Saturday.

“Hey, Potty, where’s the Mudblood?”

James flinched and his eyes started flashing, but he appeared to be trying to keep his cool. “Ten points from Slytherin for language.”

Avery just laughed; his companions, Irving Mulciber, Scylla Pritchard and Alecto Carrow, joined him. “Aww, Potter, you’re not missing your Muggle whore, are you?” Avery asked. “Shame on you, I say. And while you’re here, how about you settle an argument between me and my friends here? How long does it take to disinfect it after each time you shag her? I say two hours, but Scylla thinks at least six, and Irving, well, he’s not sure you’d be able to disinfect it properly at all.”

James’ face went very hard and his hand reached inside his robes for his wand. When he spoke, however, his voice had a forced lightness, like he was hoping it wouldn’t come to wands being drawn. “At least I’m getting a shag, Avery. Whereas your poor right hand must be getting tired of all the hard work you’re putting it through.”

The insult shut Avery up for a while, and even his friends let out a chuckle or two at his expense.

“Charming, weren’t they,” I said as we moved away from them.

“I’ve got a mind to tell Dumbledore what they were saying,” James said, clearly still fuming at their treatment of Lily. “If people are saying that sort of thing out loud at school, then Merlin only knows what they’ll be doing once they get out of here.”

Sirius shrugged. “We all know they’re Death Eater wannabes. I doubt Dumbledore would be surprised. And let’s face it, having their recruiting staff on site during the week wouldn’t exactly have discouraged them.”

“It’s still not good enough,” James said. “We’re supposed to be stamping out this sort of behaviour, not just accepting it.”

“If you want them to be punished,” Remus said slowly, “I wouldn’t be telling Dumbledore, or any of the teachers for that matter.”

“Then who would you tell?” asked Peter, clearly confused. “No one else can do anything to them without getting into trouble.”

“If they get caught, of course,” James said.

“I’d be telling Snape,” Remus said, a smirk crossing his otherwise pleasant face. “They’d never say that about Lily in front of him, and if he finds out they’ve been saying it behind his back then – well, I wouldn’t want to be them, let’s put it that way.”

“Now there’s a thought,” James said. “Even now, that would get him riled up. Though it couldn’t come from any of us, obviously … Any brilliant ideas as to how we tell him?”

“I’d offer to tell Reg,” said Sirius, “but as he’s now disowned me as his brother it might be tricky getting his attention.”

“Slip a note into his bag,” I suggested. “Lay it all out so if he confronts Avery he won’t be able to deny it.”

Sirius smiled. “And how would we get it into said bag?”

“Duh,” Peter said derisively. “Invisibility Cloak?”

James hesitated. “I’d really prefer it didn’t get any grease on it. It’s not like we can just ask the house elves to put it in with the rest of the laundry. And getting it that close to Snivellus – well, it very nearly got stained last time.”

“Well, If someone wants to cause a diversion in Potions on Monday, James or I can throw it in,” I offered. “He normally leaves his bag open, it shouldn’t be too hard a shot.”

“But that’s Monday,” James said, his brow furrowed. “Two whole days away. I’d rather strike while the iron’s hot, if you know what I mean.”

“I could drop it in at lunch time or something,” Peter said. “He’d never notice a-” His voice cut off suddenly, his eyes on me. “He’d never notice me.”

“Nice one, Wormtail,” said James, a broad smile crossing his face. “Think I’ll take you up on that offer. I knew there was a reason we kept you around.”

I didn’t see Peter leaving the note, despite keeping an eye on Snape during lunch, but it didn’t take long for us to find out it had been delivered and Severus had read it. We weren’t expecting anything too much, seeing he and Lily hadn’t really spoken for the best part of two years, but it was clear he still fancied her so we were banking on that overriding any friendly loyalties and at least one hex being cast.

This was putting it mildly, as it turned out. The meal was barely over when we witnessed Charon Avery rising upside-down from the Slytherin table in the Great Hall, plainly _Levicorpus_ ed, before being levitated a good twenty or thirty feet and then dropped to the stone floor below. He landed with an almighty crash so loud we wondered if there were any bones in his body left unbroken.

“Oh, Avery, I am sorry,” we could hear Severus saying silkily through the stunned silence that enveloped the Hall. “My wand slipped. Shall we take you to the hospital wing?”

In no time at all Professor McGonagall had conjured a stretcher and the hapless Avery was being taken upstairs to Madam Pomfrey’s care.

“Do you think he’ll be all right?” Charlotte asked in a hushed whisper as the doors of the Great Hall closed behind him.

“Who cares?” said Peter. “It’s Avery. He was just going to become a Death Eater anyway.”

“No, Charlotte’s got a point,” Remus said, and Charlotte smiled to herself. “If he was seriously injured then that’s on our hands. Maybe we should have thought this through a bit better.”

“Bit rich coming from you, Moony,” Sirius said. “It was your idea in the first place, telling Snivellus what Avery had said.”

“Yes, I know.” Remus looked troubled. “I’ve got no love for Avery, I admit that, but still …”

“I’m sure he’ll be fine,” James said. “Besides, he did bring it upon himself. If we didn’t tell old Snivellus what he’d been saying, someone else was bound to at some point.”

Sirius nodded. “We just brought it forward a bit. But yes, the reaction was perhaps a little more extreme than I’d thought.”

“Anyway, Moony,” James said, his face brightening a little, “you should know better than anyone what Madam Pomfrey can fix. If she can deal with what you get up to, then she can deal with this.”

Martha, Charlotte and I looked confusedly at each other – Remus wasn’t exactly one to get up to high jinks severe enough to need that sort of attention from the school Matron – but he seemed to concur with James’ statement. And on this mystifying note, the boys turned their attention to the desserts on the table, the conversation very obviously over.

****

By Monday, Lily had returned from Warwickshire, a little teary but holding up remarkably well, and bringing the news that her mother, while ill, hadn’t deteriorated too much. Avery was also back in classes, I noticed, so Madam Pomfrey must indeed have been able to weave her magic on his injuries. In any case, I was able to push it – and the war – to the back of my mind and concentrate on other things, like homework and, well, Sirius. And, for a bit of a change, Quidditch.

On Wednesday morning the general hum of conversation at breakfast suddenly halted after the post owls had arrived. It soon became clear that the cause of the distraction was the _Daily Prophet_ , so James took it upon himself to find a copy.

“Of course,” he said as he sat down and flicked through it. “Quidditch World Cup. They’ve announced the draw.”

That very quickly got our attention – if nothing else, it was lovely to have something to talk about that wasn’t related to school, the war or Lily’s mum. The World Cup was being held in North America that summer (probably fortuitous due to the lack of, well, Death Eaters across the pond) and, while England were one of the favourites, it really was a mystery as to who would carry off the cup, as more than half a dozen countries were real contenders.

“Right, let’s have a look,” James was saying, scanning the lists quickly. “Ah, here we go. England’s in the same pool as Hungary, Uruguay and … uh oh.” He looked at Remus and then me. “Wales.”

“Really?” I leaned across the table trying to read upside down. “England and Wales are in the same pool? Gee, I guess it really is drawn randomly then.”

“Bad news for you two, though,” Remus said with a grin, his eyes on me and Sirius. “I can see another break-up coming, if it’s anything but a draw.”

I looked at Sirius. “You know, there could be something in that. I _really_ don’t want to lose to England. Our national pride is at stake.”

He just laughed. “Ah, but England’s got a much better team. You’re going to be hard pressed to find a better front three than Boothby, Sykes and Montgomery.”

“Williams and Griffiths can give them more than a run for their money,” I shot back. “Those two can hit a Bludger like no one else.”

“Enough, you two,” James said loudly, interrupting us. “You’ll find out on July seventeenth. And until then, how about you try to keep the hostilities to a minimum, okay?”

We both grinned and Sirius squeezed my hand underneath the table. “I guess this is what I get for dating an Englishman,” I muttered.

James and Peter both laughed. “Because there are so many Welsh boys here for you to choose from,” Peter said.

“Well, there is Remus,” I said, pretending to consider him as a dating prospect. “Why didn’t I go out with you again?”

He laughed. “Because Padfoot would have killed me.”

“Oh yeah. Right.” I grinned at Sirius and decided to change the subject. “So, who else is in the Cup? What about Scotland, who did they draw?”

James looked at the newspaper again. “Uh – Australia, Lichtenstein and Tanzania. Tough pool. I’d say they’ll probably get through, along with Tanzania, but Australia is going to be the dark horse there.”

I turned to look for Mary at the Ravenclaw table. “Yeah, I think she’s seen it. She’s not looking happy. They could have trouble getting to the next round with that lot.”

Remus nodded. “Yes, Australia beat Latvia in a friendly last month. They’re starting to get a reputation for big games. I hope Lorraine Maddock’s Snitch-seeking sense is turned on when Scotland play them.”

“What about Ireland?” Lily asked. “Did they even make it this year?”

“Of course they did,” Peter said. “You try telling Sean O’Hare he can’t play in the World Cup, there’d be a riot.”

Lily smiled. “Well, yes, but then they did lose to Nepal just before Christmas, so you can’t say they’re in form.”

Remus grinned. “I didn’t know you were a Quidditch fan, Lily!”

She shrugged. “You forget how much time I spend with James. Do you really think I had a choice?” She smiled again and looked at me. “Though now I kind of get why you love it so much, Laura.”

I smiled back. “Yes, Quidditch can be addictive. Just wait till the summer, Lily, you’ll adore the World Cup. I just wish it was in Europe so we could go again.” I looked sideways at Sirius and grinned mischievously. “And watch Wales bring home the silverware.”

****

That evening our preparations for bed – punctuated by regular musings on who would actually win the World Cup (which, if I was honest with myself, was more likely to be England than Wales) – were interrupted when Mary came into the dorm between half past eleven and midnight. Martha immediately got up to greet her.

“And you must be Mary,” she said dramatically, a wide grin forming on her face. “Pleased to meet you and welcome to our dorm! I’m Martha, and this is Charlotte …” Her voice was drowned out by our laughter.

Mary grinned as she threw her bag on her bed. “Aye, I ge’ the point. I haven’ bin aroond much lately, have I?”

“It does happen when you’re dating a Ravenclaw,” Charlotte said fairly. “I discovered that when I was seeing Hector. They’re very cliquey, those boys.”

Lily shook her head. “No, I can’t relate to that at all,” she deadpanned. “I don’t know _anyone_ else who fits that description.” Her green eyes sparkled and she grinned mischievously.

“No, I bet Laura doesn’t either,” Martha said, turning to me. “How _are_ you enjoying your new position as the most hated girl in Hogwarts?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” I said innocently. “No one hates me, do they? I certainly can’t think of any tall blonde Ravenclaws who might have it in for me.”

“Or short blonde Ravenclaws,” Lily said. “Don’t discount Greta – if she put her mind to it she could do you some serious damage.” She smiled again. “Or Sirius damage, if you prefer.”

I groaned dramatically while Mary started nodding, her eyes going from Lily to me. “She an’ Elvira have bin tryin’ t’ get dirt on ye,” she said. “They’ve bin askin’ me aboot ye in the Ravenclaw common room. Ye know, what music ye lik’, what books ye read, what ye do in yer spare time. Aside from snoggin’ Sirius, tha’ is.” She grinned again. “I think they’re tryin’ t’ ge’ a profile of ye so they can plan a major attack.”

“You’re making them sound like an army,” I said with a giggle. “I wouldn’t have thought they could have got themselves that organised.”

“Well, they have,” Mary said. “Ye’ve forced them int’ action. Even they can see hoo Sirius is wi’ ye.”

I groaned. “Brilliant. Just what I wanted. What sort of thing are they planning?”

She shrugged. “Goo’ question. I don’ know, an’ they’re no’ exactly likely t’ tell me, are they?”

“But you could ask Sebastian to keep an ear out, couldn’t you?” I asked.

Mary made a face. “Tha’s more complicated. ’Cause Seb’s friends wi’ Bernie, ye know, an’ he’s still no’ too happy ye an’ Sirius are back t’gether, so Seb’s no’ goin’ t’ stop anything tha’ coul’ break ye up. ’Cause he wants Bernie t’ be happy.” She paused. “We’ve had more than one – discussion – aboot this.”

I shook my head. “But I thought that was done with now. I mean, Bernie’s nice enough, but I good as told him it’s just not going to happen. Not so long as Sirius is around, you know?”

“I think even Bernie knows tha’,” Mary said. “Bu’ he’s still hopeful I think.”

Lily was shaking her head too. “That’s not fair on Laura though. If he really fancied her, that is really, then he’d want her to be happy. And breaking her and Sirius up isn’t going to make her happy, that was proven over the holidays.” She looked at Mary. “It’s not fair on you, either. Sebastian’s not making you choose between your friends and his, is he?”

Mary shook her head. “No, he’s no’ tha’ bad. He jus’ wanted Bernie t’ ge’ the girl. An’ I can understand tha’.”

“We need to find someone else to set him up with,” Martha said. “That should do it. Distract him and get him over her.”

“He shouldn’t need to get over me though,” I said. “It’s not like we ever actually got together, is it? So there was nothing there to start with.”

Mary gave me a look. “Aye, ’cause tha’ makes all the difference, whether ye actually go’ t’gether. So if ye an’ Sirius never go’ t’gether, ye’re sayin’ tha’ ye wouldn’ have needed t’ ge’ over him?”

“Oh.” I had to admit, she had a point. “But really, though? He never fancied me that much.”

“Find him another girl,” Martha said again. “Do you think Gertie Cresswell would do the trick?”

“You’d be better off with Veronica Smethley from Hufflepuff,” Lily said thoughtfully. “She’s more like Laura than Gertie is.”

Charlotte shook her head. “No, she’s dating Cadmus Bragge. I heard her crying her eyes out in the toilets when his dad was killed.”

“Thalia Strout?” Mary suggested. “I saw them dancin’ t’gether a’ the Yule Ball.”

“I guess that’s possible,” Lily said doubtfully.

“No, I’ve got it.” Martha looked triumphant. “Set him up with Elvira. That way they can both whinge about Laura and Sirius to their hearts’ content.”

Mary burst into laughter. “Oh, I love it,” she said with a broad smile. “I’ll drop a word int’ both their ears an’ see what I can do, shall I?”


	46. Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another Hogsmeade visit, in which Laura discovers there is much more to these Marauders than she ever imagined.

The first Hogsmeade visit of the year was scheduled for two days before my birthday, and Sirius had been dropping hints for ages he had something planned. Not one for wanting the surprise to be ruined, I obliged him by not asking any questions and just letting him plot away. I was vaguely mindful of the amount of schoolwork I still needed to do, but this was the first Hogsmeade visit we’d had as a couple and I had no intention of not going.

That morning I dressed with great care and attention. Doing much with my hair was useless, as the harsh March wind would demolish anything I tried within seconds of going outside, but I experimented with a bit of makeup and found some earrings that went rather nicely with the bracelet Sirius had given me for Christmas.

By the time we left Hogwarts, it was already eleven o’clock: Filch had held everyone up in the Entrance Hall while he tried to find the list of students who had permission to go, and then scanned us all for anything illegal before we could leave. I’d never properly understood that – why would we be taking contraband _out_ of the school? – but it was a ritual we had to succumb to nonetheless.

Sirius put his arm around my waist as we walked down the driveway towards the gates. “Are you okay?” he asked, looking at me. “I’ve been looking forward to this for ages.”

“I was just thinking about how things can change. Bertram used to say the same sort of thing to me as you do, and after a couple of months he was going around with someone else behind my back.”

He frowned. “I’ve been thinking about that, trying to get my head around it, and I can’t. I can’t figure out why he would have done it. He must have known how it would turn out.”

“Sick of me, most probably,” I said.

He looked at me incredulously. “You’re joking. You must be. How could anyone get sick of you?”

“Bertram must have,” I said. “And it had been about as long as we’ve been together. So part of me wonders whether you might do it too.”

“Now you _are_ joking,” he said, giving me a squeeze as we made our way through the front gates of the school. “You can’t seriously think I’d do that, not after everything we’ve been through.”

“I’m doing my best. And I do trust you, I know that.” I snuggled into him. “It’s just that sometimes my brain goes off and thinks things before I can stop it.”

He pulled me to one side of the road, and then stopped and turned me to face him. “Laura Cauldwell,” he said earnestly, “you are the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and if you think I’m going to ruin that by screwing around you don’t know me half as well as I thought you did.” His grey eyes were full of sincerity and his face had lost that haughty look, a sure sign he was telling the truth.

“All right,” I said. “I believe you. I guess I just can’t believe my luck.” And I went up on tip toes and kissed his cheek. He held me tightly in a half-romantic, half-reassuring way.

“And I can’t believe mine,” he said. “And now, I thought you might like to go to Madam Puddifoot’s …” He laughed, ducking as I swung a playful fist towards his head.

I did see a few people heading towards the tea-shop, among them Bernie Carmichael and a girl who I thought might be in sixth year. I smiled to myself, hoping it might work out for them, and congratulating myself for not being that girl – if he liked Madam Puddifoot’s, then we most probably weren’t a very good match anyway.

Instead Sirius and I spent a leisurely hour or so wandering the high street, scoffing quietly at the shabby stalls that seemed to have multiplied exponentially since our last visit, and dropping into places like Dervish & Banges and checking out their Sneakoscope range, and Scrivenshaft’s where I picked up a new eagle feather quill. Just before midday Sirius looked at his watch.

“You hungry?” he asked. “Let’s go to the Three Broomsticks. I fancy an early lunch.”

I hadn’t had anything to eat since breakfast so the idea of food was definitely appealing. We made our way into the busy pub, the lunchtime traffic just starting to build up, and had a hearty and warming lunch, something I thought necessary considering the weather outside.

On our way out we passed Lily and James, who had just arrived with Martha, Charlotte, Remus and Peter. We waved and Sirius smiled conspiratorially. “We’re just on our way to the hideout,” he said to James, who nodded and gave me a barely suppressed grin.

“What hideout?” I asked as we made our way onto the crowded street, using my free hand to pull my cloak closer around me in a vain attempt to block out the cold March wind.

“You’ll see,” he said smugly.

I hesitated. “Do I really want to know?”

He looked at me, his expression serious all of a sudden. “Laura, you still trust me, don’t you?”

“Completely,” I said, realising it was true. My doubts of the morning, if they had existed at all, had totally evaporated.

“Well, then,” he said, pulling me by the hand, “come on.”

I had no answer to that, but stopped dead in my tracks when I saw where he was leading me. “The Shrieking Shack? You’re taking me there?” I wasn’t sure if I was thrilled or horrified.

“Of course,” he said. “Why not?”

“Because it’s haunted. There are supposed to be all sorts of malevolent spirits in there.”

“Rubbish,” he said, grinning at me. “It’s not haunted. I’ve been in there loads of times. Not with girls,” he added, correctly interpreting my look. “Come on.” Accepting defeat, I allowed myself to be pulled towards the silent building.

It certainly looked foreboding, a feeling that increased the closer we got. The windows were all boarded up and what was once a garden was overgrown and dank. Sirius, however, was unperturbed and seemed to know what he was doing, looking briefly around to make sure no one could see us before leading me to a back entrance.

“Everyone’s having lunch so we shouldn’t get too many third-years wandering up to have a look at the place, so it’s about as private as we’ll get.” He indicated the door with his thumb. “This is supposed to be sealed up,” he said, getting his wand out and tapping what looked like random spots on the doorframe. “We – the gang and I – unsealed it, but you have to know the code to get in.”

“So this is a Marauder hangout,” I said slowly. “It figures. Why did you bring me here though? I thought your hangouts were like sacred sites.”

“Because this is the only place I could think of,” he said, smiling wickedly as the door opened, “where I was sure we wouldn’t be disturbed.”

We slipped through the door, and I had a look around. The place looked just as bad on the inside as it did on the outside. There were bits of furniture scattered around the room, looking like they had been torn apart rather than any other explanation. The wallpaper was ripped and there was no glass in the boarded-up windows, allowing an icy draught to penetrate the house.

Sirius took me by the hand and led me upstairs to a dusty bedroom. “This won’t do at all,” he said as if to himself, frowning slightly as he looked around the murky room. “I thought I’d left it in better condition than this.” Again, broken furniture littered the floor, the wallpaper was torn, and the whole place had an odd smell, like a farm or something. Sirius walked around the room briskly, tidying up what he could.

“Right,” he was saying. “ _Reparo!_ ” The broken furniture dutifully reassembled itself, and some of the wallpaper reattached itself to the wall.

“ _Incendio! Moliorobex!_ ” A fire started burning happily in the grate, giving the room a more cheerful feeling, and the icy draught coming from the boarded-up window disappeared, immediately making the room warmer. “ _Scourgify! Tergeo!_ ” The remaining mess on the floor disappeared and the air felt cleaner, less musty. “ _Renovo!_ ” Fresh linen appeared on the newly-repaired bed.

“That’s more like it,” Sirius said, apparently still to himself. Another wave of his wand and a vase of daffodils was sitting on the dressing table.

I looked at him with admiration. “I didn’t know you were so good at housekeeping spells,” I said, unable to keep the surprise from my voice. Somehow Sirius and housekeeping didn’t seem to mix.

He shrugged. “Got my own place, no house elves, I pretty much had to learn them. Now,” he said, that wicked grin back on his face, “we have –” he checked his watch – “three hours or so before we’re due back at school. The gang know we’re here, and no one else can get in, so we’re not going to be interrupted.”

“No interruptions?” It was like a dream come true. Without even bothering to answer, he pulled me towards him and kissed me deeply. My hands found their way under his cloak and shirt to his bare skin, and I could feel his muscles tensing as he held me. As I eased his cloak off his shoulders and dropped it to the floor, I knew I had never wanted anything so badly in my life as I wanted him at that moment. There was no hesitation or uncertainty, just the knowledge that this was the right time. Everything we had done to that point had been leading up to this.

I pulled away from him just long enough to whisper the words, even though I felt somewhat awkward and more than a little self-conscious to even say them. I knew it was important, though, that there were no misunderstandings.

“Make love to me.”

He smiled softly. “Are you sure?”

“More than anything.”

“Well, if you change your mind, make sure you tell me.”

I just smiled. “Fine. If I get uncomfortable, I’ll tickle you.” I’d discovered he was extremely ticklish if you got him in the right place.

He groaned. “Well, if that’s what it takes,” he said, then smiled again as we fell together onto the bed, a jumble of limbs meshed together as we fought to get out of our clothes.

****

We lay on the bed, still intertwined, my head on his shoulder and my hand resting on his chest as I gently traced the outline of his nipple. “I’m not even going to ask if that was your first time,” I said with a sly grin, greedily breathing in the heady musky aroma that was unmistakably Sirius.

“Of course not. If you hand me that quill you just bought, I’ll write you out a list.” He paused, miming writing in the air. “Elvira Vablatsky. Greta Catchlove. Carol Jones. Primrose Fawley. Wendy Savage. Leda Minchum …”

“Okay,” I said. “I asked for that.”

“Yep, you did,” he said with a grin. “Seriously, though, Dione, yes, a couple of times. Not that I’m especially proud of that, knowing now what she’s like. And a Muggle girl in London last summer who looked a bit like you. Not Clio, though, she had this idea you had to be in love to do it, and that we definitely weren’t. I wasn’t all that fussed. That is to say, pretty girl, but nothing on you.”

I laughed. “You barely knew me when you were with her!”

“Ah, but you were the reason we broke up,” he said, stroking my hair. “That rotten mood I was in? That was because you’d got together with Aubrey, and I was insanely jealous.”

I lifted my head and looked at him in surprise. “Really?”

“Yes, really. Took me a while to work it out, though, so of course I had the frustration of not knowing why I was so pissed off that compounded it a bit.” He grinned. “Or maybe a lot. But yes, that’s what it was all about. In the end it was Moony who pointed it out. Said I was behaving just as badly as Prongs was with Lily. Suddenly I realised he was right.”

“Goodness,” I said, leaning over so our faces were only inches apart. “You have been patient.”

“You’re not wrong,” he said, moving even closer. “Good thing you were worth it.”

“So were you.” I leaned in that last inch to kiss him and we again gave in to the moment, revelling in the fact we were absolutely alone, that no one was going to suddenly open the door and catch us.

“You never told me why this is a hangout,” I said a little while later.

“I guess not,” he said, running his hand through my hair again. “It’s not really my story to tell.”

I looked at him sympathetically. “Another one of those secrets?”

He sighed. “Actually, I have permission to tell you now. You have to promise not to breathe a word of this to _anyone_.”

“I promise.” I rolled onto my stomach and propped myself up with my elbows, wondering what on earth could possibly be so secret that he was treating it so seriously.

He took a deep breath. “This all starts with Remus,” he said finally, pulling himself up and leaning against the headboard. “I don’t know if you heard any of the rumours about him that went round a couple of years ago …”

Something stirred in the back of my mind. “Do you mean Snape’s theory?”

“Yes, that’s the one.” He paused, watching me, before taking another breath and continuing. “Well, as much as it kills me to admit it, Snivellus actually got it right for once.”

I was staring at him, horrified. “Do you mean Remus is a – a werewolf?” It seemed too bizarre to credit.

Sirius nodded again. “Yes, he is. He got bitten as a four year old. He’s had a rough life.” He paused. “Prongs and I worked it out in second year – it wasn’t hard to read between the lines. He would say he was going to see his ill mother, but he always looked like the one who was ill. And when he said he _was_ ill, we’d sneak into the hospital wing to see him and he wouldn’t be there. He’d be there the next day, looking more like he’d been in a brawl than anything else, but not overnight. Even Peter was seeing the clues.” He paused again, looking at me searchingly. “Listen, does this change anything? Are you okay with it?”

“I think so,” I said, trying to get my head around it. This was what Viridian had been talking about in sixth year, but I’d never thought I’d actually have to deal with it first-hand. But then I thought of Remus, kind, lovely Remus, and I couldn’t be scared of him. I took a deep breath. “No, it doesn’t change anything. I guess it makes sense, now I come to think of it. But – poor Remus!! What a horrible thing to have to go through!”

“Yep,” he said dryly. “You can understand why he’s not keen for it to be common knowledge. Most people aren’t as open minded as we are.” He paused again. “It’s funny, looking back. Here was me, so worried about how people would treat me for being a Black, when one of my best mates was becoming a monster every month and having to deal with that. When he realised we knew he even assumed we wouldn’t want to be friends with him anymore. Which just shows how people had reacted in the past.” His fist clenched. “Stupid, ignorant idiots …”

“Calm down,” I said, grabbing his hand and kissing it. “So, one of your best friends is a werewolf. What does that have to do with this place?”

He grinned suddenly. “This place was built specifically for Moony. It’s only been here seven years. You know that tunnel underneath the Whomping Willow? It leads here – there’s a trapdoor in one of the rooms downstairs. Each month at the full moon, Madam Pomfrey takes him down to the Willow, which can be frozen if you know how, and he comes in here to transform.”

I nodded thoughtfully. “And that explains the condition of everything,” I guessed, my eyes flicking around the room as I remembered what it had been like when we’d walked in. “He rips things apart. And now I understand why he’s never had a girlfriend. I mean, Charlotte’s been pretty much throwing herself at him for ages. But he’s not game, is he? He’s scared of getting too close to someone in case he hurts them.”

Sirius was looking at me shrewdly. “That’s right,” he said. “We’ve tried to convince him any girl worth her salt wouldn’t care, but he’s too chicken to find out. Seems to think he doesn’t deserve it, or something.”

“Poor boy,” I murmured. “It must be awful for him.” My heart almost broke at the thought of his self-imposed lonely and loveless existence, but then something occurred to me. “But I thought you said you would come down here? You can’t do that if there’s a werewolf … Merlin’s beard!” I suddenly exclaimed, realising something. “That time James saved Snape’s life! He was going down that tunnel! He would have found …”

“Yep, he would have found a fully-fledged werewolf if he’d made it all the way,” Sirius said stonily, not looking at me. “He should never have done what I said in the first place. Honestly, if Snivellus told me to go down an unknown passageway after dark because I might be interested in what I found there, there’s no way known I’d go without some serious backup and a heap of precautions.” He paused. “I’m not proud of what I did,” he said eventually, his eyes finding mine again. “I was just so sick of him following us around all the time, trying to get us expelled, I thought I’d give him something to really think about. And he was being such a prat about that whole Imperius Curse thing. It seemed like a good idea at the time … I don’t always think things through very well,” he went on, looking somewhat sheepish.

I decided to let it slide. He’d improved on that matter since fifth year. “So, this place as a hangout,” I prompted.

“Right,” he said, obviously glad for the change of subject. “Well, we could see how badly the transformations were affecting Moony, he was always zonked afterwards and generally in a pretty bad way. There was no one for him to attack so he’d attack himself.” I shuddered involuntarily, and he gave my hand a comforting squeeze. “So James, Peter and I tried to figure out a way we could make it easier for him. Make it a time he didn’t dread so much. And eventually we came up with the idea of becoming Animagi.”

My jaw dropped in astonishment. “Animagi?”

He nodded. “Yep. It was James’ idea initially, I think. A werewolf is only dangerous to people. So, we thought, if we could become animals, we could hang out with him when he’s transformed and not be in any danger.”

I couldn’t fault his logic but what he was saying was beyond belief. “You’re not telling me you’re an Animagus,” I said. “That’s – that’s really advanced, you can’t do that when you’re still at school!”

“Try me,” he said. “We worked it out during fifth year. James, Peter and I can become animals at will.”

I had sat up by now, stunned and amazed by what he was telling me. “You – and James – and Peter – are all Animagi? That’s unbelievable.”

He shrugged, as he always did when someone complimented him. “It took a long time, the best part of three years, but we managed it. Peter needed a bit of help,” he added, grinning. “And the process is a pain in the neck. We had to carry a Mandrake leaf around in our mouths for a month, for example, which was a nightmare. But the upshot is every month when Remus comes down here, we follow him with James’ Invisibility Cloak and transform into animals so we can keep him company. James and I are pretty big, so we can handle a werewolf, and Pete is small enough to freeze the Willow and to keep a lookout for us.”

“So what do you turn into?” I asked.

Wordlessly he got up and, suddenly, an enormous shaggy black dog was sitting on the rug next to the bed. Wondering why it looked so familiar, I reached over to stroke its snout and he changed back to Sirius, laughing.

“We weren’t surprised, of course,” he said, getting back onto the bed. “Sirius is the dog star, so as a Black I had to be a black dog. James is a stag, and Pete’s a rat. Same as our Patronuses, you might notice.”

Well, that was probably why it was familiar – it was just like his Patronus. In any case I just stared at him, astonished.

“What?” he asked, a smile on his face. “It’s not that strange, is it?”

“Uh – yes, it is,” I said. “Even coming up with the idea in the first place is impressive, but actually doing it …”

He shrugged. “Well, like I said, it’s what you do for your friends. But that’s also what we’re doing on full moons, when we all go out.”

I nodded slowly – that made sense, now I knew about it. “So, that night you told me not to ask questions, you were going to see Remus.”

“I hated not telling you. And you were right, it did look like I didn’t trust you. But it wasn’t my secret, and, well, we were a bit rocky for while there so I wanted that to settle down before I would even consider asking Moony if I could tell you.”

“That’s fair enough. I mean, knowing about it now, it’s fair enough, but I wasn’t too thrilled at the time.”

“I noticed,” he said, making a face. “But I couldn’t say anything, and I didn’t want to lie to you.” He grinned suddenly, a conspiratorial look crossing his face. “Oh, and for the record, that’s also what the furry little problem is.”

I stared at him. “You’re kidding. Really?” I was so used to the idea of Remus’ misbehaving rabbit I’d never even considered it might not exist.

He laughed. “We needed something to call it in public, so that was what James came up with. I think it was in third year that someone came to the conclusion we were talking about a badly behaved rabbit, and we just never bothered to correct them. That poor animal must have the worst reputation of any beast known to man.”

“Well, it’s a good cover,” I said. “It never even occurred to us it might be something else.” I shook my head, still trying to get it around the idea of Animagi, which to me was even more unbelievable than the idea of Remus being a werewolf. “So, what’s it like, being a dog?”

He smiled. “It’s – different. Simpler, I guess. Things feel more cut and dried, not so complicated. So if I’m having a rough day, I’ll probably transform for a while to calm down.” He paused. “That first week of term, I was a dog a fair bit. It didn’t hurt so much then.”

I grabbed his hand, ashamed. “I’m sorry about that.” Then I realised something and sat up abruptly, staring at him. “But … the dog … you _did_ follow me!” That was why it looked familiar, I understood suddenly – not just because of the Patronus, but because I _had_ seen it before.

He looked confused. “Follow you?”

“When I left James’ place in January.” He’d brought up the break-up so I didn’t feel so bad referring to it as I might otherwise have.

“Of course I followed you. I was trying to get you to come back! Why would you think –” His voice broke off as comprehension dawned on his face. “You thought I didn’t! Oh, crap, I was the dog, wasn’t I? Mother of Merlin, what was I thinking? I just transformed because it’s the fastest way to run on snow, but I couldn’t catch the car, so I went back and wrote to you instead. But you thought I didn’t …” He trailed off, shaking his head.

I smiled tersely. “That was exactly what I thought. I was looking for the bike and all I saw was what I thought was a stray dog chasing the car. I thought you didn’t even care enough to chase after me.”

He clapped a hand to his face. “The bike! Why didn’t I think of that?”

“Probably because you had the option of turning into a dog. But yeah, I was convinced you couldn’t be bothered.”

“And that was why you sent that stuff back,” he muttered, his hand moving to where the bracelet sat on my arm. “It makes more sense now. Geez, Laura, I’m sorry.”

I grabbed his hand and kissed it again. “Well, we sorted it out eventually, didn’t we? But yeah, it might have been different if I’d realised.”

He groaned. “To think I could have avoided that whole thing if I’d been thinking straight. Though, in my defence, I don’t think I’d ever be thinking straight in that situation.”

“I suppose it would have its uses though,” I mused. “Being able to turn into a dog. Or – what were they? A rat, and a -?”

“Stag,” he said. “Prongs, remember?”

I made a face. “So THAT’s where those nicknames come from.”

He grinned. “Yep. And yes, there are definitely other uses. For example, that’s how we got into your dorm. The stairs only change for people, animals can get up there whether they’re male or female.”

That made sense. “But Remus couldn’t get up, then, could he?”

“He can if he rides Prongs,” Sirius said, a broad smile once again crossing his face. “It was a good plan, though, wasn’t it?”

“That scared the hell out of us,” I said. “Realising you lot could get in. It shattered our illusions of privacy.”

He laughed. “You should be glad none of you keeps a diary. We could have learned all sorts of things.”

“I’ll pretend you didn’t say that.” I shook my head at him fondly. “I still can’t believe you can turn into a dog. It’s – it’s incredible.”

He just shrugged again, clearly uncomfortable with the praise. “Honestly, Laura, we’ve been doing this for so long now I don’t even think about it.”

“No, I guess you wouldn’t. It does suit you, though, the dog thing. I’m not really sure why, but it does.”

“Like I said, with a name like mine, what else would I be?”

I nodded. “Well, yes, I do get that. And I guess it explains the amortentia.”

“What?”

“Amortentia. When we did it in Potions, one of the things I could smell was wet dog. I couldn’t for the life of me work out why.”

He grinned broadly. “That potion never lies, does it?”

I looked at him curiously. “So what did you smell?”

He hesitated. “Well, when you’re an Animagus things like amortentia can get a bit warped. And because I’m a dog my sense of smell is heightened as well, so there’s that to take into account. So the dog part of me could smell dog biscuits and rabbits and other dog things, all intermingled with human stuff like hot cross buns and treacle tart and that smell you get outside when it’s just been raining.” He leaned over and put his face in my hair, inhaling deeply. “And that.”

I smiled. “Right answer. So, no one else knows about this?”

“Well, obviously, most of the teachers know about Moony. They had to be told so they wouldn’t be too hard on him if he missed a lot of school because of it. Not Slughorn, though, he’d have put him straight in the Slug Club and made a curiosity of him, and that’s the last thing Dumbledore wanted. Or Remus, for that matter.” He paused. “And Lily knows too,” he added as an afterthought.

“Yes, I imagine she would,” I said. “James would have told her.”

“Oh, she knew about Moony before that,” Sirius said. “They were both prefects, and he wasn’t able to do all his duties at certain times so, with his permission, Dumbledore told her and asked her to cover for him if anyone said anything. That is, he got through fifth year okay, as by chance the full moon was always at a convenient time, but sixth year was more of a problem for him. Being Lily, of course, she never told anyone.”

“No, she never did,” I said. Charlotte had been quietly wondering about Remus’ frequent illnesses for ages and Lily had never breathed a word.

“And I expect she knows about the rest of us by now. We gave permission ages ago, and Prongs can never keep anything from her for very long. But that’s it, no one else.”

“Well,” I said, “I’m amazed. But you have my promise, I won’t tell a soul.”

“Thanks,” said Sirius, leaning forwards and kissing my forehead. “I knew you wouldn’t. Otherwise I’d never have told you.” He lifted my chin so I was facing him again and kissed me gently. “Anyway,” he went on a moment later, and throwing a t-shirt at me, “I’d say this one’s yours. We’d better think about getting back to school.”


	47. Another birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laura turns eighteen, and she and Remus share another party. Though not without a bit of drama first …

My eighteenth birthday fell the following Monday so any activities were, like Valentine’s Day, tempered by the fact we had to go to class. As a result, I wasn’t expecting much by way of attention or special treatment. Sirius, however, had other ideas.

“Hey there, birthday girl,” he said almost shyly as I came down the stairs to the common room before breakfast. “I have a surprise for you.”

“Hey there yourself,” I said as I reached him, allowing myself to be kissed. “What kind of surprise?”

“The best,” he said as he grabbed my hand and led me out through the portrait hole, me belatedly waving at our friends still inside.

We both had a free period first thing so he could have had just about anything planned. I knew there was a birthday present coming at some point, though – there had been nothing from him in the pile at the foot of my bed that morning and I couldn’t imagine he’d ignore it entirely.

“I’d thought of going into the forest for a picnic,” he said as we walked in the direction of the owlery, “but then I looked outside and decided that might not be such a good idea.” I looked towards the nearest window and laughed – it was pouring down outside, so hard I thought that even if we tried we wouldn’t make it to the forest without getting flattened by the sheer force of the rain.

“Absolutely right,” he agreed to my unspoken summary of that idea. “So I had to resort to Plan B.”

I looked at him. “And what’s Plan B? Am I allowed to ask?”

He smiled. “Of course not. You’ll have to see.”

“Fine. But, most importantly, will there be food? I’m famished.”

He grinned even more broadly. “Yes, Laura, there will be food. I can’t have you starving on me, can I?”

I smiled back. “Just checking.”

We stopped abruptly by the statue of Wilfrid the Wistful, and Sirius tapped its shoulder with his wand and said, “Dissendium,” making it come away from the wall and revealing a relatively roomy cavern.

“It’s a secret passage for house elves,” he said. “Roomy at this end, but past about five yards it’s only about three feet high. I don’t know if it actually is for house elves, but it makes a good story. Oh good, Wormtail’s been already.”

I looked around. The cavern had been made rather comfortable, with a rug on the floor, a plush-looking sofa and a coffee table, and a couple of torches placed on the walls to illuminate it and also provide some warmth. On the coffee table was a large platter with a lid, a flagon of pumpkin juice and a jug of coffee, and I suspected that was what Sirius had meant by his comment about Peter – the food had arrived.

“Tell me,” I said as I took it all in, “why we have never been here before?” It struck me as a perfect rendezvous location, being so close to the common room and everything.

He chuckled. “To be honest, I’d forgotten about it. And obviously it’s not usually this comfortable. This stuff is all conjured, aside from the food of course. Oh, and Filch knows about it so there’s always the possibility of getting caught.” I raised an eyebrow at him – he’d never exactly been one to shy from risky behaviour before. “Oh, all right,” he said with a smile. “Sometimes that does make things more interesting, the risk of getting caught. But I’m not sure you and I need that extra buzz …”

His voice trailed off as he sat me down on the sofa and lifted the lid of the platter, revealing a stack of pancakes with butter and maple syrup. “A special treat for a special day. How many would you like?”

I let him wait on me as we shared a private breakfast. The platter, flagon and jug had obviously been charmed to refill whenever they were emptied – Sirius must have really sweet-talked the house-elves to get that organised, I thought – and we had a lovely meal cozied up together on the sofa. Once we’d finished Sirius waved his wand a couple of times and they all disappeared, leaving us alone in the cavern accompanied by nothing but the lingering scent of fresh coffee.

“So, Laura,” he said, leaning back with his arms around me, “happy birthday.”

I looked up and kissed him. “Thank you. It’s been lovely.”

He looked at me with mock horror. “You don’t think that’s all, do you?”

“I wouldn’t know,” I said. “Is it?”

“Never,” he said, and I could hear the smile in his voice. “It’s only just started.” And he pulled out his wand and waved it again, most probably doing a non-verbal Summoning Charm, and a parcel appeared from the back of the cavern and landed on the coffee table in front of me. “For you, birthday girl.”

I looked at it. “From the size of it, I’m guessing it’s not jewellery again.”

He chuckled. “I did think of that, but it was probably getting a bit old. And besides, I wanted to get you something a little bit more personal this time.” He let go of me so I could open it.

The package contained – well, I won’t call it lingerie, because that’s probably misleading, but that’s what it was. A magnificent ivory silk slip that fell to mid-thigh, the softest silk I had ever felt in my life. It felt like liquid against my hands as I held it up. “Oh, Sirius. It’s beautiful!” I folded it back into its box and launched myself onto him so I could kiss him properly. “Thank you!”

“You’re welcome,” he said once we had finished. “I thought that with skin as soft as yours is, you shouldn’t be subjecting it to those school robes we have to wear. Far too rough. So I decided some decent quality silk would probably solve the problem.” He grinned. “With the added benefit being the way good silk just clings to every curve.”

“You’re despicable. Do I take it you’d like me to model it for you?”

His face lit up. “Well, I wouldn’t say no …”

We stood up and he helped me strip down to my underwear before sliding the slip over my head. It felt just as exquisite on as it did in my hands and I felt like a princess or something, not quite believing that anyone short of royalty would have access to fabric this soft. This was turning into my best birthday ever.

“So?” I asked, pirouetting for him. “What do you think?”

He just stared at me, apparently unable to speak. “I think,” he said finally, “that I’m a very good chance of missing Muggle Studies this morning.” He paused. “I knew you’d be beautiful in it – you look beautiful in everything – but I wasn’t prepared for this. You look … words can’t describe the way you look.”

“Well don’t get any ideas,” I said sternly, though I was smiling. “Now I’ve got this on, I don’t plan on taking it off anytime soon.”

He smiled. “I can’t exactly argue with that, can I?”

And he was indeed on his best behaviour, keeping his hands on the outside of the slip at all times, though they did linger more in some places than others: he was only human, after all. We sat together on the sofa for a while, me reluctant to put my school robes back on before it was absolutely necessary as then I’d only be able to feel the silk from the inside, and it felt rather indulgent to be wearing just that.

“I guess we can’t get away with staying here all day,” I said after a while.

He laughed. “Unfortunately not. If nothing else, this stuff will disappear in another hour or so.” He indicated the furniture, rug and torches. “I thought we might need a prompt to get out of here to go to Potions.”

“And what about Muggle Studies?”

He shrugged, looking completely unconcerned. “It’s a piece of cake anyway. I only took it in the first place to annoy my parents, and then kept it up because Prongs wanted to learn about Lily and asked me to keep him company. Missing one class definitely won’t kill me.”

“Right you are then,” I said, giving him a squeeze. “So we have how much time left now?”

He looked at his watch and then pulled me onto his lap so I was facing him. “Just enough time, I think, for one more of these …” And he pulled my face towards his as we kissed once again.

****

The following Saturday, I looked wistfully at the ceiling of the Great Hall as we filed in for breakfast. The sky was periwinkle blue and the wind seemed to have died down, leaving, for March, what seemed to be perfect weather. I sighed to myself as I sat at the Gryffindor table.

“What’s up?” Sirius asked, as always attuned to my moods.

“Nothing much,” I said. “It just looks like a beautiful day, and I haven’t taken my broom out in ages. So I was thinking how nice it would be to take a spin.”

“Well, why don’t you?”

I shook my head. “I’d rather be with you,” I said. “I can ride a broom any old time.”

“Tell you what,” he said, “how about we both head out for a ride? I’ll race you, twice around the Quidditch pitch.”

“On what broom?” I asked, thinking of the old Nimbus One Thousand I’d seen in his dorm. “Yours? You’ll never beat me, you don’t fly well enough.”

“I’ll borrow James’. That should give me a chance.”

“Okay,” I said, accepting the challenge, “you’re on. What are we racing for, by the way? What does the winner get?”

“How about,” he said very quietly in my ear, “if I win, then I get to do whatever I like to you.”

“As opposed to … what? Last weekend? I thought we’d already done all that.”

He held my gaze. “Again,” he said.

I looked back at him, smiling mischievously, my fingers tracing his spine. “Then what’s the incentive for me to win?”

“Well, then, if you win,” he began.

I cut him off. “Then I get to do whatever I like to you?”

He grinned. “That sounds like a plan.”

We wandered down to the pitch not long after breakfast, taking care to avoid the large puddles that had formed during the week’s rainstorms. Sirius was carrying James’ broom, which he’d talked James into lending him on the strict proviso it was returned in precisely the same condition it came out in – him loaning it out in the first place was actually a big step for him, as we all knew he was protective enough of the broom to keep it hidden beneath his bed, lest anyone get hold of it.

This was something I should probably have been doing, too – keeping my broom in the dorm. After less than a full lap of the pitch, I took one hand off the handle to brush a stray strand of hair out of my face, and my broom decided at that moment to lurch unpredictably in the air.

Alarmed, I quickly put both hands back on the handle: I hadn’t been kidding when I told James my balance deserted me when they weren’t both there. The broom lurched again, quickly up and then down, like it was a wild horse trying to buck me off. I had barely regained my balance when it did it again, this time swinging sideways rather violently, and it was all I could do to hold on. Ahead of me I could see Sirius streaming around the pitch, oblivious to my predicament – I’d have to wait until I was in his path, when he’d almost lapped me, before he’d see what was happening.

“Sirius!” I yelled, trying to get him to turn around. “Sirius!”

The broom lurched again, this time upwards and to one side, and this time I did let go – it had defeated me, and I was no longer able to keep my grip. Whatever had possessed it to try to buck me off had done the trick. The trouble was, I was a good hundred feet off the ground, and I didn’t like how quickly it was coming up to meet me. Closing my eyes, I braced myself for the blow.

Fortunately Sirius had heard my screams and doubled back to me, and while he didn’t manage to deftly catch me while flying James’ broom he did get there in time to break my fall, and when I hit the ground it was at a much lesser speed than I’d feared.

“Are you okay?” Sirius asked, and I blinked to get him into focus. “What happened?”

“Broom bucked me off,” I said, trying to sit up and wincing a bit from the pain in my right arm and shoulder – I’d landed awkwardly and was feeling the effects. “It was so strange, like it wasn’t even my broom.”

He helped me to sit and then walked over to where my broom was lying on the grass, about twenty feet away. “Well, it’s definitely yours,” he said, inspecting it closely. “Unless there’s another broom called ‘Cauldwell’ that lives in the broom-shed.” He sat down next to me, his face full of concern. “Do you think someone might have jinxed it?”

I thought about that, pleased to have something to take my mind off my throbbing arm. “I suppose it’s possible. You know, Elvira or someone. Mary did say they were plotting against me.”

“If they did this, they’ll have me to answer to. You could have been killed. I’m not going to stand for it.”

“How about,” I said, letting him help me to stand, “we find out exactly what was wrong with it before we jump to any conclusions. Maybe it just needed a service or something.”

“How likely is that?” he asked. “Not with you, you know when it needs servicing.” He paused as I tried to walk. “Both legs okay? I’m taking you to see Madam Pomfrey, she’ll get you fixed up in no time. That arm looks nasty.”

Surprised, I looked down at it – I knew it was aching but I hadn’t expected anything too major to be wrong with it. But he was right, it was hanging at what even I could see was the wrong angle. “Yeah, it does,” I agreed. “I hadn’t realised it was that bad.” So, holding it up with my other arm in lieu of a sling, and wincing a little, I allowed myself to be taken back to the castle.

****

The school Matron peered into my eyes. “I think you are fine to leave,” she said. “But if you feel any headaches whatsoever, you come straight back here. While I don’t think you have a concussion, we can’t take any chances.”

“Thanks, Madam Pomfrey,” I said, feeling my right arm gingerly. It had been broken, and my shoulder dislocated, but they had been fixed within minutes of my arrival in the hospital wing, and now there were hardly any signs it had been hurt at all. Grinning, I thought of how long the recovery process would have been if I’d been a Muggle – sometimes, it almost felt like it was worth potentially facing the Death Eaters if it meant we could still use magic.

“I took the broom to McGonagall while you were being patched up,” Sirius said as he walked me back upstairs to the common room. He’d wanted to stay with me but Madam Pomfrey, so protective of her patients, hadn’t allowed it. “She said it sounded like there might have been a Hurling Hex on it, so she and Flitwick are going to check it out. They might give it to Perkins too, to look for any Dark Magic.” He paused, letting that possibility sink in. “I wouldn’t be keeping it in the broom-shed any more, either, once you get it back. If you have been targeted then that’s a really easy way for them to get to you.” He shook his head. “I should have thought of that before.”

“Don’t you dare think this is your fault,” I said. “I’m a big girl and I can look after myself. Where I keep my broom isn’t your responsibility.”

“Still,” he said, “if I ever find out who did this …”

“Don’t worry about it. The main thing is, nothing too serious happened. I’m okay and the party can go ahead tonight.”

That had been my main concern – the party I was sharing with Remus that night. Sirius had been making noises that suggested they might cancel it if I wasn’t able to take part, and so much work had gone into it already I didn’t want that going to waste.

In any case, I was fixed up and released well before eight o’clock so there was no need to worry. When the time came, the boys all took their usual party roles and with well-practiced actions were able to ensure that everything went according to plan. Music, food and drink were all endless and everyone was getting along famously.

Sirius was standing at a table measuring out shots of Firewhisky for some eager sixth-years when I came up behind him, put my arms around his waist and, thankful I had heels on so I could reach comfortably, started kissing his neck. He tensed ever so slightly. “I hope that’s you, Laura,” he said warily, pouring out another measure of the drink. It was probably fair enough, as Wendy Savage and her fifth-year friends had been eyeing him off a bit blatantly.

“So do I,” I said, holding up my wrist so he could see the bracelet I always wore. “Otherwise someone else has stolen this.”

He put the bottle down and turned around, smiling at me. “Right, then, birthday girl, what can I get you?”

I considered. “Some chocolate éclairs would be nice. A glass of elderflower wine. And you, once you’ve finished playing barman.”

He smiled. “I think I can just about manage that. And where would Madam like her food delivered?”

“I’ve been ensconced by the fire,” I said. “Though if you have any better ideas …” My eyes flicked towards the staircase to the boys’ dorms.

He laughed. “Maybe later. If I can get someone to cover for me here. We’ll have to get permission from Moony, though, it’s his birthday too. We can’t lock him out of his own dorm.”

“And it’s not like we can rely on him to pull, either,” I said. “The fire it is, then.”

“I’ll be with you in two secs,” he promised, kissing my forehead. I smiled and went back to where Mary, Sebastian, Lily and James were sitting.

“Odd one out no longer,” I said, acknowledging the couples around me. “He’ll be over in a minute.”

“I’m guessing it didn’t take much convincing,” James said with a grin. “I can just about see the thumbprint on his forehead from here.”

Lily pretended to throw her goblet at him. “And you’re less under the thumb than he is? Shall we ask him?” She smiled. “Or Remus, now he’s an impartial observer.” And she called him over.

“What’s up?” he asked, sitting down on a spare armchair.

Mary smiled. “We need an independen’ judge. Who’s more under the thumb, James or Sirius?”

Remus laughed. “Easy. Prongs is. Lily’s had a lot longer to exert her influence than Laura has.” Lily beamed at him and high-fived Mary on the next sofa.

James scowled. “You were supposed to be on my side!”

“And that is why, exactly?” Remus was plainly enjoying himself.

“’Cause Padfoot’s not here to argue.”

Sirius sat down with my wine and éclairs and obviously had just caught that last comment. “What aren’t I going to argue about?”

“We were discussing who’s more under the thumb of their respective girlfriends, you or James,” Sebastian said. “And Remus decided it was James.”

Sirius laughed. “Nope, I’m definitely not going to argue with that,” he said without a trace of irony. “Lily’s got you good, Prongs. But then again, she had you good long before you two even got together. She’s just been perfecting it ever since.”

James snorted. “Like you can talk. Mr If-I-do-whatever-she-says-then-maybe-she’ll-like-me.”

Sirius had the grace to look embarrassed, then he grinned. “Worked, though, didn’t it?” And he made a show of feeding me a chocolate éclair.

Remus smiled. “Looks like you don’t need me as adjudicator any more. These two are busy digging their own graves.” And, waving, he made wandered over to where Charlotte, Martha and Peter were doing some fancy wand tricks for a bunch of earnest-looking fifth-years.

Later in the night Mary and Sebastian disappeared in search of a little privacy, so I went over to what was serving as the bar to join Sirius. He and James were staring gobsmacked at a couple by the far wall, trying unsuccessfully not to laugh. Following their gaze, I saw the couple in question were Louisa Philpott, who was in sixth year, and Peter, snogging as though their lives depended on it.

“Merlin’s beard,” Sirius was saying, “how pissed must she be?”

“You should know,” James said with a grin. “You’ve been pouring her drinks all night.”

“Well, yes, but I didn’t think I’d put that much booze in them.” Sirius frowned slightly. “She must be a really cheap drunk. Either that or she snuck some down when I was with you.” He smiled at me.

I looked at them. “Has she shown _any_ interest in him before now?”

James shook his head. “We’d have known about it if she had. Wormtail’s hardly the type to keep quiet about that sort of thing.”

Sirius laughed. “Yep, he’ll find fault with anyone,” he said, putting an arm around me, “but he’ll still snog them if they’ll let him. Remember that kerfuffle with Doris, or whatever her name was? And look, she’s got to be at least three or four inches taller than him.” That wasn’t saying much: Peter was a good half a head shorter than me at least. If I had to guess I’d have said he’d stopped growing in third year.

“There’s no accounting for some people’s taste,” said James, smiling broadly. “And I’m talking about both of them.”

They had always treated Peter like this, in a kind of derisive, condescending way, but it never seemed to bother him. And you couldn’t deny they _were_ fond of him in their own way. I was a little uncomfortable with laughing at their friend like this, but then again I happened to agree with them. If Louisa really was interested in Peter, then I didn’t think much of her taste.

I was also conscious of the fact that if Peter did get a girlfriend it would make things rather awkward for Remus, and this was supposed to be a party to celebrate his birthday as well as mine. While it would be fine if Peter’s liaison finished that night, anything extended would make Remus the odd one out, the third wheel, and he’d be hard pressed to explain why he wasn’t hooking up with anyone himself. Having said that, however, he didn’t appear too concerned a minute or so later when he appeared at James’ shoulder.

“You’ve noticed Wormtail, then,” he said, looking at our faces.

“It’d be tricky not to,” James said with a grin. “They’re making a bit of a spectacle of themselves.”

“That’s right,” Sirius said. “I feel like telling them to get a room. Not ours, though,” he added quickly, grinning as he gave me a bear hug, “we might be needing that later.”

Remus laughed. “Did you want me to create a diversion so you two can go upstairs?”

Sirius pretended to be shocked by the very suggestion. “Moony, you’re a _prefect_. You can’t go around doing things like that!”

Remus smiled again, his brown eyes dancing. “Only for good friends. Prongs and I won’t say a word, will we?”

“Not us,” James said, a sly grin on his face. “Otherwise you might let slip what Lils and I get up to. And the Head Boy and Girl have a reputation to maintain.”

I wasn’t sure I liked this being the topic of conversation, but the boys seemed completely unconcerned about it all and I supposed they had no secrets from each other. Idly I thought of what Sirius had said back in January – _if they thought we were shagging, you would have known about it_. Well, if this was the sort of thing they said, I had to admit he was right.

Sirius was laughing. “Ah, Prongs, the stories we could tell. I’m sure Dumbledore would be thrilled to find out what his Head students are actually doing when they’re supposed to be planning events or patrolling the corridors.”

James picked up an empty Firewhisky bottle and pretended to swipe it at Sirius’ head. “Just as I should let him know what you really use the Shrieking Shack for?”

“Right, because you never do that,” Sirius grinned back, ducking the blow. “Sneaking down to the tunnel under your Cloak when you say you’re going to the library.”

James held up his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay, you win. But don’t think I’m not keeping an eye on you two. I need ammunition!”

“Speaking of which, Padfoot,” Remus said, though his eyes were sparkling, “you never gave me an answer. Diversion, yes or no? And shut it, Prongs, they get first dibs because it’s Laura’s birthday.”

Sirius looked at me, and I smiled. “I think that’s a yes,” he said, grinning as he kissed my forehead.

“Right,” Remus was saying. “Give me a couple of minutes.” And, true to his word, a minute or two later some fireworks went off by the girls’ stairs on the opposite side of the common room, and Sirius and I used the resulting palaver to slip up the boys’ stairs unnoticed.


	48. An offer too good to refuse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius has what he thinks is a brilliant idea, Mary laughs a lot, Bernie makes a confession and Laura lies to her parents. So, much the same as usual, really.

The next morning it took just about all of our self-control not to comment on the fact Peter and Louisa Philpott seemed to be avoiding each other, confirming Sirius and James’ theory that the previous night’s display had indeed been a one-off. I wasn’t sure who had initiated the stand-off – whether she’d reconsidered or whether he had decided she didn’t meet his standards – but it probably didn’t matter anyway. In any case it was the subject of much speculation and, frankly, hilarity on the part of Sirius and James, out of Peter’s hearing of course. As the Code said, all efforts to get the girl had to be supported.

I suspected, however, that Peter was pleased when Monday came around and we were all distracted by lessons, which were getting more and more difficult as NEWTS approached. Our Monday afternoon double Charms class, for example, had us practicing Disillusionment Charms, which needed a tidy bit of concentration to master. I was partnering Sirius again, and holding my own quite nicely.

“Nice one,” he said as I successfully Disillusioned him. You could tell when it had been done right as you felt a cold uncomfortable sensation down your back, rather like someone had cracked an egg on your head. When re-Illusioned, you had the same sensation but warm.

“Thanks,” I said, re-Illusioning him with a wave of my wand. I knew I was rather good at Charms but it was nice to have that confirmed by someone else. Especially someone I was pretty sure I was in love with. (Though that presented me with a bit of a quandary – should I tell him? Would he say it back or would it scare him away? I wasn’t really sure and I didn’t want to freak him out or anything.)

“Come back with me,” he said suddenly as he Disillusioned me.

“What?” I still hadn’t properly got used to his sudden change of subjects.

“At Easter. Come back to my place with me. Stay with me for the holidays.” He looked at me seriously, re-Illusioning me with a flick of his wand. “Think about it, no curfew, no teachers, no sneaking around, two weeks of just us!”

“I can’t,” I said. “Mum and Dad are expecting me home, they’ve already made arrangements for a big family lunch on Easter Sunday and they’ll be really cut up if I’m not there.”

He was quiet for a spell as he considered that. “What about after? That’s probably better anyway, there’s a full moon on Good Friday so I’ll go to Prongs’ place for that. And then it’s his birthday on the Monday. But you have to come. I can’t go two weeks without seeing you. That time at Christmas was like torture.”

I thought about it. Frankly, I didn’t want to go two weeks without seeing him either. But actually staying at his flat? Tempting as that was (and believe me, it was incredibly tempting), my parents would have a fit.

“I might be able to manage a couple of nights,” I said, Disillusioning him again as my brain worked at a million miles an hour. It was a bit of a job talking to him when I couldn’t see him properly, so I waved my wand and he was visible again. “I might be able to swing a night or two at Mary’s place. Assuming she goes along with it, of course. Then it’s just a case of Apparating to you.”

His face lit up. “You think that will work? ’Cause I’m assuming your dad wouldn’t be too happy with his little girl cavorting with the likes of me.”

I laughed, feeling the tell-tale trickle down my back that indicated I’d been Disillusioned again. “No, he doesn’t want his little girl cavorting with anyone this year. Even saying ‘I’m of age’ doesn’t work. If anything, it makes him stricter. That’s the trouble with being the youngest.”

“And the most beautiful,” he said, re-Illusioning me easily. “I can well understand why he’d be protective of you.”

“There’s still the first week, though,” I mused, smiling at the compliment. “Do you think you could drop by Bristol for a spell one day?”

He grinned. “And what will you tell them this time?”

I shrugged. “Probably shopping again. That’s what teenage girls normally do in their spare time, isn’t it? I don’t get much chance to look through Muggle shops because I’m here most of the time, it should be believable.”

“I’d say I can manage that,” he said, checking Flitwick wasn’t watching before sneaking a quick kiss onto my forehead. “Just let me know where and when and I’ll be there.”

I tackled Mary that night in the common room as we worked together on the Herbology essay Sprout had set us the previous week (‘Explain, with examples, some of the difficulties that can be encountered when breeding Venomous Tentacula and the best ways to avoid them’ – minimum two and a half feet).

“Mary,” I began as she flicked through _Flesh-Eating Trees of the World_ , “are you going home over Easter?”

She looked surprised. “Aye, o’ course. I always do. An’ Ma made me promise this time, we’ve go’ Andrew’s wedding t’ organise.”

“Well,” I said, wondering how to word it, “can I stay with you without staying with you?”

She raised an eyebrow. “An’ what’s tha’ supposed t’ mean?”

“I want to see Sirius over the holidays without my folks finding out,” I explained. “He’s asked me to stay with him.” She looked at me sharply. “Obviously I can’t for the whole holidays, but I would like to try for a night or two.”

Mary digested what I’d said. “So this means ye’re sleepin’ t’gether. Ye coul’ have tol’ me!”

“And how should I have done that?’ I asked, blushing even more. “‘Oh, by the way, Mary, I’ve been de-flowered’?”

She laughed. “Tha’ woul’ have done nicely. So when did it start?”

“Um, Hogsmeade,” I said, wondering if it was physically possible for me to get any redder. “That day just before my birthday.”

She just nodded and grinned at me, most probably figuring I was embarrassed enough and she needn’t continue with that line of conversation. “Right, t’ put it anither way, ye can’ keep yer hands off each other an’ ye’re wondering hoo ye’re going t’ ge’ through two weeks apar’. Tha’ aboot it?”

“Something like that.”

“An’ ye can’ stay in school?”

“No, my folks have this big Easter lunch planned, whole family and everything. And he’s got an arrangement with his landlord that he has to go back during school holidays, so the flat isn’t vacant for too long.”

“Hoo aboot Apparating?” she asked. “Ye coul’ make day trips.”

“I thought of that. But it’s a tidy step from my place to London, and I’m not very confident doing it over long distances.” It was true – Bristol to London was over a hundred miles and I was terrified of Splinching myself.

Mary laughed. “Remember the three Ds? The secon’ one was determination, he’d say tha’ ye needed t’ be sufficien’ly determined on yer destination, t’ _yearn_ t’ be in tha’ spot.”

“And?”

“Well, the way ye look a’ each other, if gettin’ t’ him doesn’ give ye enough determination, nothing will.”

I raised my eyebrows at her.

“Aye, okay,” she said, abandoning that idea. “Floo?”

“You want me to show up at my boyfriend’s house after going through the Floo network? Covered in soot and ash and Merlin only knows what else? I’d look a mess!”

“Good poin’,” she said. “Though I’m no’ sure tha’ woul’ bother him much. I think ye coul’ show up tarred an’ feathered an’ covered wi’ Dungbombs an’ he wouldn’ complain, he’d jus’ be happy ye were there.”

“Yeah, whatever,” I said, sure she was exaggerating. “Besides, there’s always the tracking thing in the Floo network – Dad would be able to find out where I’d gone, and we can’t have that.”

She just looked at me and then paused, thinking. “An’ he can’ go t’ ye?”

“We can try a day trip, as you called it,” I said. “But that’s about it. There’s the issue of him being at his flat, he’s already going to be away from it over the Easter weekend. And frankly, sneaking around the back streets of Bristol during the day isn’t quite what I had in mind.”

“Where’s he goin’ t’ be o’er Easter?” Mary asked, distracted.

“James’ birthday,” I said, leaving out the full moon bit. That wasn’t my secret to tell. “All the boys are going to that, and it sounds like it’s a boys-only thing.”

“Right. So ye wan’ my hoose as a base, a cover story.”

“If we could,” I pleaded. “I can Apparate from your place easy, it’s only a few miles.”

Mary was quiet for a minute or two, which felt like forever as I waited for her answer. “I’ll have t’ clear it wi’ Ma,” she said finally. “She’s unusually good wi’ tha’ sor’ o’ thing, she le’ me stay wi’ Marcus las’ summer. An’ she’d need t’ be in on it fer when yer pa checks up on ye, which if I know yer parents is boond t’ happen.”

I nodded, breathing a sigh of relief. This might actually work. “Yep,” I said. “Mum would too if she was confident about sticking her head in the fire. Twenty-five years they’ve been married, you’d think she’d be used to it by now.”

“So, le’s ge’ this straigh’,” she said. “Yer parents don’ wan’ ye havin’ a boyfrien’, or doin’ anything else tha’s fun, during yer final year because it will put ye off yer NEWTs. Which is all well an’ good, except alon’ comes Sirius t’ spoil their plans, and ye’re jumpin’ up an’ doon sayin’ ‘Aye’ afore he can ge’ the words oot. Oot o’ curiosity, what woul’ they have said if he’d go’ his act together an’ asked ye oot las’ year? Woul’ they have made ye break it off o’er summer?”

“Probably,” I said. “Dad’s pretty strict on schoolwork being top priority during NEWTs. And with Bea it wasn’t exactly an issue, not unless she was shagging Sturgis behind everyone’s backs.”

“No, it wouldn’ have bin,” she said with a giggle, probably at the thought of Beatrice and Sturgis having it off. (Which, if I thought about it, was rather an amusing mental image.) “She’d even bin kicked oot o’ the Gobstones Club by then, hadn’ she? Right, back to it. So ye don’ wan’ them t’ know aboot Sirius but ye’re gaggin’ fer it –” she grinned as I blushed yet again while rolling my eyes at her – “so ye need an excuse t’ come t’ London so ye can see him.” She eyed me critically. “Ye don’ have any experience in wedding plannin’, do ye?”

I smiled. “Actually I do. Cousin Gwendolyn, last summer. I was a bridesmaid, remember?”

She held up her hand for me to high-five her. “Brilliant! There’s yer excuse. I’ll write t’ yer folks an’ say Ma and I are plannin’ Andrew’s wedding an’ I remembered ye had some grea’ tips from Gwendolyn’s shindig, so can ye come o’er fer a couple o’ days an’ run us through them. When woul’ ye lik’ the letter? Wednesday o’ the firs’ week?”

“Sounds good,” I said, relieved.

“Then,” she continued, “I’ll invite ye o’er fer, say, Tuesday, Wednesday an’ Thursday o’ the secon’ week, jus’ after the long weekend. Ye can give us yer wedding tips in half an hour, an’ then off ye go t’ Sirius’. I shoul’ warn ye, though, tha’ Ma’s gettin’ in some security fer the weddin’, ye know, because the bride’s Muggle-born, so anything ye can suggest might be impossible anyway.” She groaned. “T’ be hones’, the whole thing is gettin’ t’ be a nightmare.”

“I can guess,” I said. “We were lucky with Gwendolyn and Morgan because they were both pure-bloods, but with all the attacks on Muggle-borns you can’t be too careful, can you?”

“Ye’re soonding lik’ Ma,” she said, making a face. “Hones’ly, it’s awful. There’s talk aboot Aurors bein’ stationed a’ the reception an’ guests bein’ scanned wi’ Probity Probes afore the ceremony. Apparently this sor’ o’ weddin’ is bein’ targeted a’ the moment, the Death Eaters don’ want pure-bloods marryin’ doon, so t’ speak.”

“Sounds like what Sirius used to have to put up with,” I said. “You’d think they’d just let people marry who they want, it would be so much easier.”

She smiled grimly. “Aye, ye’re no’ wrong there.” She shook her head in frustration before looking back at me. “Right, back t’ yer problem. If ye do get t’ come, I think you’d better ge’ back hame fer the las’ weekend an’ all, so they can see ye afore puttin’ ye back on the train on Sunday.”

I could have kissed her. “Mary Macdonald, you are brilliant. Whatever would I do without you?”

“Sit a’ hame, lonely an’ increasingly frustrated. Right, I’ll have a chat t’ Ma once I ge’ hame. Ye’ll get yer letter on the Wednesday, either inviting ye o’er or sayin’ she’s no’ goin’ along wi’ it. Incidentally,” she said, “hoo were ye planning on gettin’ through the firs’ week?”

“A day trip.” I smiled. “He came over at Christmas and no one found out, so we can most probably pull that off again.” I paused, looking at her archly. “I’m getting the impression you’ve done this before. These ideas are coming a bit sharpish for someone as sweet and innocent as you make out to be.”

Her smile widened. “Modern an’ permissive my mither may be, bu’ even she draws the line somewhere, an’ unfortunately plannin’ Andrew’s weddin’ is t’ her more importan’ than my love life. I wan’ t’ catch up wi’ Sebastian some time o’er the holidays, I’m jus’ givin’ ye our ideas.”

“And I love you for it,” I said with feeling. “Thanks, Mary, you’re a life saver.”

“Don’ coun’ yer Diricawls,” she said as I got up, itching to tell Sirius the good news. ‘It may no’ happen. Ye’d better ge’ tha’ day trip in jus’ in case.”

I raised my hand in a mock salute. “Yes, ma’am,” I said, grinning as I crossed the common room and detoured around what looked like several first-years swapping chocolate frog cards in the middle of the floor. “Sirius! Can I have a word?”

****

The weather was fining up and I was itching for another lap of the Quidditch pitch on my broom, but Professor McGonagall hadn’t returned it to me yet. And, if she and the other teachers were checking it for jinxes, that might have been just as well, because I soon learned it was likely that a hex or two _had_ been placed on it. This came about the following Friday, when Bernie Carmichael came up to me at the end of Ancient Runes.

“Um, Laura, would you mind if I talked to you for a minute?”

I looked at him, surprised. “Yeah, I guess so. What’s up?”

Bernie looked pointedly at Remus. “In private, if that’s okay.”

I turned to Remus and shrugged. “I suppose so,” I said doubtfully, wondering what on earth Bernie could have to say that Remus couldn’t hear. It wasn’t like I really had any secrets from him. But, Bernie seemed to think it was important so Remus just smiled.

“Sure,” he said. “I’ll save you a spot at lunch, okay Laura?”

Bernie led me to an empty classroom, looking nervously over his shoulder as he did so. “I just don’t want …”

My curiosity was getting the better of me. “Bernie, what’s all this about?”

He looked nervously down the corridor before closing the door. “It’s Elvira Vablatsky,” he said once he was sure we were alone. “She’s … I don’t know, Laura, she’s got really nasty lately.”

I smiled – was that all this was? “Is this something to do with Sirius?”

He nodded seriously. “She … she must have heard me in the common room,” he said, his voice apologetic. “I was having a whinge about how he’d stolen you again …” He trailed off, his face as red as his hair, and he was looking out the window rather than at me. “I know, I know,” he went on suddenly, “it’s not exactly mature of me but I was disappointed. And this was ages ago, just after you got back together.” He sighed. “It sounds like I’ve been obsessing over you. And I haven’t, honest, but like I said it was disappointing.”

“Right.” I wasn’t really sure how to take this.

“And it’s not like I want you and Black to split up,” he said, his words so rushed they almost ran into each other. “You’re more alive when you’re with him. I could never have that effect on you.” He paused. “There are some people you just can’t compete with, you know?”

“I never thought you did,” I said. “Want us to break up, I mean.” I fiddled with the bracelet on my wrist, wondering exactly where he was going with this. “Anyway, didn’t I see you going to Madam Puddifoot’s with a girl the other week?”

He nodded. “Yeah, that was Cecily Wright. It was a nice day, but we don’t have much in common. But that’s by the by. This happened before then, anyway. Elvira must have got it into her head that, um, she and I wanted the same thing. That is, you two not together. So she came to me for help.”

I stared at him. “Help?”

He nodded, looking nervous again. “She wanted me to … I don’t know, Laura, she’s got together with Dione Turpin and they’ve made these plans. They want to do some horrible things to you. And they came to me to try to work out how they could carry some of it off.”

“What did they want to do?”

He shook his head. “I don’t even want to tell you, it’s really spiteful. And I couldn’t work out why they wanted me to help them, because it wasn’t nice to you and if I fancied you, why would I do that?”

“I was bucked off my broomstick last weekend,” I said, trying to make it sound careless. “Wasn’t really hurt, but it could have been nasty if Sirius wasn’t there to catch me. Was that them?”

“It would have been,” he said, nodding again. “I’m sure I heard them saying something about tampering with your broom. And you might want to watch out in classes, too – they were talking about switching Potions ingredients around on you so your cauldron would blow up in your face.”

“Lovely,” I said, making a face. “I’ll remember that.”

“And there was something else about Bubotuber pus, though I don’t really know what they were planning there.”

“So I should keep an eye out in Herbology as well, is what you’re saying.”

He nodded again. “Yeah, you should.”

“So why all the secrecy?”

He looked nervous. “I don’t want them knowing I’m talking to you. If things go wrong they might take it out on me, you know? And like I said, they’re getting vicious. But I did want to warn you they’re up to something, to put you on your guard.” He paused. “And that’s why I didn’t want Lupin in on it. The less people who know I’ve told you, the less likely it is I’ll get targeted.”

“But if they know I know, won’t that stop them in whatever it is they’re planning?”

“I doubt it,” he said. “Look, if I hear anything concrete I’ll let you know, but it’s probably better if you don’t go trumpeting that we’ve had this talk.”

“If you don’t think Remus Lupin can keep a secret, you’re barking up the wrong tree,” I said. Merlin only knew that the boy had enough experience in the matter. “But don’t worry. I’ll be very discreet.” I looked at him. “I’ll have to tell Sirius, though.”

He looked disappointed. “Do you have to?”

“He has a right to know. At the very least, why you would be taking me into empty classrooms, don’t you think?”

“I suppose. Tell him if you think you have to. But no one else, okay?”

Sirius was all questions when I finally made it to the Gryffindor table for lunch. “What did Carmichael want? What took so long?”

I looked at Lily, James, Remus and Peter. “I’m really sorry,” I said, “but would you mind if I _Muffliato_ ’d you for a minute or two?”

They looked surprised but nodded, and a moment later they all had white noise in their ears. I turned to Sirius.

“Bernie wanted to warn me about Elvira,” I said. “But he didn’t want me telling anyone because, if what she’s planning doesn’t work because he told me, she might take it out on him.”

“But you’re telling me?” he asked, his eyebrows raised.

“Yes. I told him I would. If he’s going to be whispering in my ear then it’s only fair that you know what it’s about. And it’s not like you haven’t trusted me with your secrets. But yeah, he’s a bit worried about being targeted: apparently the gigglers are getting vicious.”

“What are they planning?”

I shrugged. “He was pretty vague. Something about switching Potions ingredients around so my potion explodes, or hitting me with Bubotober pus. And, well, there have been other things.”

“Like tampering with your broom, you mean.”

I nodded. “Yeah, he thinks that was probably them. But he’s going to keep an ear to the ground and tell me if he hears anything concrete.”

“And that’s it?” he asked. “That’s all he wanted you for?”

“Why, what else would he want?”

He looked a little uncomfortable. “Well, we all know he fancies you …”

I looked at him in surprise. “Sirius Black, are you _jealous_?” This was almost beyond belief.

“Not at all,” he said, almost too quickly. “But I haven’t forgotten he was very quick to try to claim you back in January.” He put a protective arm around me.

“And that was over two months ago. I think he’s over it by now. Anyway,” I said, changing the subject, “I’m not going to say you can’t tell this lot what’s going on. I think it’s reasonable that they know. I’ve kept my side of it by only telling you – if you choose to share this information, though, then I can’t help that.”

He nodded as I waved my wand at the others, reversing the spell. “Thanks for that,” I said. “Now, what food is left? I’m starving.”

****

I got through the remaining week or so of term without getting jinxed, or at least jinxed in any significant way. The Easter holidays, however, came up almost before I was ready for them, and were much more of a job to get through than I had anticipated. Trouble was, I wasn’t used to being alone anymore. I was far too used to having Sirius around all the time, every day, and not having him there was a trial I would have preferred going without. After I’d been home only a couple of days I was already lying to my parents again, which I was getting unnervingly comfortable doing, when I told them I was off to town for the day to have a bit of a wander through Muggle shops.

Like what had happened at Christmas time, I was really spending the day with Sirius, who was perfectly confident Apparating the hundred-plus miles from London to Bristol, and we found a quiet spot overlooking the harbour, hidden when necessary by Disillusionment Charms and enjoying each other’s company in the March sunshine. Like what had happened at Christmas, too, the day felt like it was over before it had begun, and it was far too soon that we were saying goodbye and hoping I would be able to make it to London the following week, as getting away from my family for even half a day over the long weekend would be almost impossible.

The problem was, I found, that even though my presence was required at home I was having awful difficulties concentrating on what was going on around me. By Good Friday I missed Sirius so much it hurt – it was like I was an addict who had been forced to go cold turkey, and it was incredibly difficult. Especially since I couldn’t talk to anyone about it, save the odd letter to and from Mary and the other girls – and, of course, to Sirius. I hadn’t realised just how much I’d relied on seeing him every day, how I’d depended on those hours we spent together to get me through the week, until it was taken away from me by the new horror that was school holidays, stretching out unendingly before me.

Mary, fortunately, was as good as her word and the day after Sirius’ visit the following letter arrived.

> _Dear Laura_
> 
> _I hate to bother you like this, especially since you see so little of your mum and dad, but Ma and I are in a fix and were wondering if you might be able to help out? It’s just that we’re trying to get some things sorted for Andrew’s wedding this July and I can’t help but remember you had some great comments and ideas from Gwendolyn’s wedding last summer. So, if it’s not too much trouble, do you think it would be possible to come and visit us for a couple of days? Just while we get all this sorted out, of course, no longer._
> 
> _Ma and I were thinking that maybe two-three days, say next Tuesday to Thursday, would probably do us the world of good and would really help us out in a big way. I’m happy to get Ma to write directly to your parents if that would be more likely to make them let you come, but hopefully this wee note will be enough. Pretty please? With a cherry on top?_
> 
> _Write back as soon as you can with an answer, and hopefully we’ll be able to see you on Tuesday next week._
> 
> _Love, Mary_

Smiling to myself at how good Mary was at wording things, I immediately organised permission to go – though my parents, particularly Mum, were obviously a little disappointed I would be leaving them during the holidays as they saw so little of me to start with. I even sent Cerridwyn off to Sirius with the good news before I’d confirmed with Mary I was coming, that's how excited (and preoccupied) I was. The knowledge I would be able to see him again before school went back, even if it wasn’t for another week, kept me going throughout the long weekend. While I rued this need for deception, I realised that even if Mum and Dad knew about Sirius, there's no way I would have been allowed to stay with him, so it would have been happening anyway. Sometimes, you just have do make your own decisions in life.


	49. London

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laura heads to London, hopeful of a couple of days’ freedom without her parents finding out.

“You’ve been quiet these holidays,” Mum said at dinner one night. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I said. “I’m just a bit worked up about NEWTs, that’s all.” It was the same lie I had told Sirius all those months ago, before we’d got together, and it was covering up the same thing – how much I was thinking about him. In fact, I was itching for Tuesday to come, so I could go to him, but that wasn’t something I could really say out loud.

Mum didn’t look much more convinced than Sirius had, either, but she couldn’t exactly accuse me of lying. “Right then,” she said a little doubtfully. “Well, make sure you get all your homework done, then. Do you need a trip to the library for any more reading?”

“That sounds great,” I said, grabbing the excuse to spend time alone with both hands. And indeed, to complete the charade I spent hours in my room doing the assignments that had been set for the holidays. Not that it was entirely a charade – I had every intention of getting them finished before I headed to London, as I really didn’t want to have to think about anything but Sirius once I was there. What they didn’t realise of course was I had a couple of photos stashed in my bedside cabinet and I pulled those out to inspire me when writing my essays.

Finally after what felt like several years Tuesday arrived, and not a moment too soon as far as I was concerned. I let Cerridwyn out of her cage to roam free for a few days, not seeing the need to take her with me for such a short visit, and she validated my decision by flying off into the distance before I’d even closed my window. I’d thought she was getting bored.

My father, protective as ever, accompanied me to the Macdonalds’ house via the Floo network, subjecting himself as well as me to the necessary questions to make sure we were in fact ourselves, and fussed around making sure I would be comfortable while I dusted myself off and checked my appearance in the mirror Mrs Macdonald kept conveniently over the mantelpiece. Of course, extra parental attention always happens when you are impatient for them to go, and he was even threatening to have a cup of tea with Mrs Macdonald before I reminded him he was needed back at work to help deal with a rumoured Inferi attack on a Muggle area the previous night. Looking flustered, he agreed that work was a priority and disappeared into the fireplace.

Dad had just left when Mary’s brother Andrew came into the room. “I’m jus’ aboot t’ – is tha’ Laura?” He looked genuinely surprised.

I nodded. “Hi Andrew, how are you?”

He grinned. “Well, ye’re all grown up now, aren’t ye? When did tha’ happen?”

Mary giggled. “Prob’ly aboot the same time as I did, ye big lump.”

“Aye, ye’re prob’ly right,” he said. “Well, good t’ see ye, Laura. I’m just off t’ Diagon Alley. See ye all later on.”

After he’d gone I looked at Mary’s mum quizzically. “I didn’t know Andrew was living back here.”

“Just for a few months,” she said. “While he saves up for his own place place after the wedding. And, speaking of which, young lady ...”

Fortunately Mary’s mum didn’t need much advice from me after all, as only about five minutes later the doorbell rang. Mrs Macdonald peered through the window and looked at me. “That him?”

Looking over her shoulder at Sirius, who looked a little nervous, I nodded. “Yep, that’s him.”

She pulled the curtain closed. “I’d believe it, he looks like a Black. What’s your security question?”

“The form his Patronus takes,” I said.

“Right.” She opened the door a crack. “What shape does your Patronus take?”

“A large dog,” he said, grinning at me through gap between door and jamb.

She looked at me questioningly and I nodded again. “Yes.” Finally, she opened the door the whole way and he was able to come inside.

While I was dying to run over to him and throw myself at him, the presence of Mary and, more importantly, Mrs Mac (and possibly Andrew again) held me back a little, though once introductions were over he did grab my hand so tight I thought it might break.

I turned to Mary’s mother. “Thanks again, Mrs Mac. I really appreciate this.”

She smiled. “Well, you’re both of age, so you’re old enough to make your own decisions. Just be careful, both of you. I don’t want anything happening to you on what’s supposed to be my watch.”

“We will,” Sirius promised, his hand still threatening to block circulation to mine. “I’ll look after her, don’t worry.”

“Well, I’ll see you in a couple of days,” I said. “Dad’s coming back at four o’clock on Thursday, so we’ll head back here before then.”

“Not a problem,” Mrs Macdonald said.

“Have fun,” said Mary, winking at me. “See ye on Thursday the’.”

We Apparated to a small dingy alleyway and paused to embrace again, fully aware that this time the Macdonalds were not there to gawk at us. It felt like it had been forever and we had a fair bit of catching up to do. Finally we stopped and I had a look around as he led me to the adjacent street. We were next to a large modern block of flats, probably five or six storeys high, which was apparently our destination. I followed him through the front door and up a flight of stairs before he halted outside a door in the nondescript-looking hallway.

“Well,” he said, sounding more than a little nervous, “this is it. Welcome home.” He tapped the lock twice with his wand and then stood aside to let me enter, watching my face for a reaction.

Having been a little unsure what to expect, I just looked around and took it all in. It was a modern three-room flat, with large windows facing north and a small private balcony featuring a couple of folding chairs and a small table. The bulk of the flat was one large-ish room which included a small kitchenette and a fireplace, and obviously was to do for kitchen, lounge room and dining room at once. It was rather simply furnished with a sofa and an armchair in front of the fireplace, and a small dining table with four chairs, but even with those few pieces of furniture it was a little cramped. That is, room to swing a Kneazle, but only just.

The lack of space wasn’t helped by the fact that next to one wall was Sirius’ enormous black motorcycle with some parts sitting on the floor next to it, and I had the distinct impression it was often in pieces in the middle of the room. The lone bookcase near the fireplace held a few school books and motorcycle manuals and magazines, some Defence Against the Dark Arts texts, a very thick book called _Muggle Mechanics – a guide to adapting Muggle artefacts for magical use_ and some others that looked to be of a similar ilk, and some yellowing copies of the _Daily Prophet_ that I later learned reported the deaths and disappearances of people we knew. There were also some photos scattered around – a couple of the other boys, one of me. His broom was propped up against the bookcase and on the wall was a large Gryffindor banner and a few pictures of things like motorbikes and other Muggle engines.

“Do you like it?” He sounded almost hesitant, as though my approval was something he was unlikely to get.

“Of course I like it,” I said. “It’s very you.”

He visibly relaxed. “I still can’t really believe you’re actually here,” he said, closing the door behind us. “I was so sure something would happen to stop it. You’d have a family emergency, or you’d get a better offer and change your mind or something.”

I dropped my bag on the table and went to him, putting my arms around him. “It would have taken a Death Eater attack on my house to stop me from coming here. And there’s no such thing as a better offer than you.”

He smiled, though I could tell he was a bit unsure still. He got like that sometimes and it took some getting used to, particularly coming from someone who was normally so self-assured. “We can move the bike out onto the balcony if you like,” he said to change the subject. “Makes more room, but it means you can’t use the balcony.”

“I think I’d rather use the balcony,” I said. “It’s always nice sitting outside for a spell. You can’t always do that in London.”

He nodded. “Tell me about it. My parents’ house had no outdoor area at all, just one of those shared gardens in the middle of the square, which we weren’t allowed to go into because Muggles used it. I had to resort to climbing out my window and sitting on the roof to get any fresh air.”

“Let me guess,” I said, smiling as I leaned against the kitchen bench. “This place is absolutely _nothing_ like where you grew up.”

“That’s right,” he said, giving me a hug. “I wanted lots of natural light and somewhere I could sit outside. And it all had to be modern. Almost the complete opposite of Grimmauld Place. If I never set foot in that house again, it’ll be too soon.” I concluded that Grimmauld Place must be where his parents lived, but I’d never heard the address before. “My cousin Andromeda helped me find it,” he went on. “She lives just outside the city so she helped me look. It’s much easier when you’re with someone who’s done it before. Now, the grand tour …” He dropped one arm and I let him show me the other two rooms – a bedroom and, off it, a small bathroom – before going back to the kitchen and pulling out a couple of butterbeers, which we took onto the balcony to drink.

“Andromeda …” I knew I’d heard the name before. “That’s it. Andromeda Black, married a bloke who was Muggle-born. Is that her?”

He looked surprised. “How did you know?”

“News like that travels. Someone from your family does something that noteworthy, it might as well be on the front page of the _Prophet_. I even had a cousin talking about it over the summer.”

He smiled and reached over to squeeze my hand. “Right. Well, yes, Andromeda married Ted Tonks, and was promptly disowned as a result. He was a Hufflepuff, too: with that combination I think Aunt Druella almost died of shame. You should have heard the Howler she got – almost rivalled mine after I was Sorted into Gryffindor.” He grinned again and I had a vague recollection of being almost forced out of the Great Hall on the first day of first year due to the noise that came from that one little red envelope. “So, yeah, Andromeda and I are kindred spirits in a way. I’ve been seeing a bit of her the past year or so, and she and Prongs’ mum helped me kit this place out. She even gave me a rundown on the spells I’d need to keep it in decent order.” He paused, smiling. “Actually, her daughter left one of her toys here last week – I must remember to get that back to her.” I looked back through the open door as he indicated a doll sitting on top of the bookcase, her arms moving up and down on their own in a rather feeble manner.

“I can’t really see you around small kids,” I said.

“I might surprise you. Anyway, she’s not that small, she’s almost five. Nymphadora.” He made a face. “One thing Andromeda doesn’t have is good taste in names.”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I’ve heard worse. She could have gone with Elvendork.”

He laughed. “Elvendork?”

“Yeah. I saw it in a birth notice in the _Daily Prophet_ a month or two ago. I couldn’t quite believe someone would inflict that on a child.”

“Boy or girl?”

“Good question. It wasn’t clear from the notice. Could be either, I guess. Or both, if the poor kid’s a hermaphrodite.” I had started giggling uncontrollably, a situation Sirius must have decided to make the most of as he reached over and started tickling me.

“What?” he asked as I wrested myself away from his grip. “You were laughing already, I thought I’d just encourage it.”

“Nice try,” I said, ducking my head to evade him again. “If you can’t keep your hands off me, just tell me.”

“I thought you’d never offer,” he said with a grin. “And don’t worry,” he added as I looked around to see if there were any neighbours within earshot, “this balcony’s got half a dozen charms on it. No one can see or hear us.”

“Well,” I smiled, reaching for him, “in that case …”

****

We spent the first evening at a nearby Muggle pub where a punk band was playing loudly, enthusiastically and a little off-key. Sirius was keen on checking out the Muggle music and also wanted to sample all the drinks on display behind the bar, and I noticed that most of the girls at the pub seemed keen to sample him. Sirius being Sirius mostly ignored it but couldn’t fail to respond to some of the more blatant attempts to get his attention, and while he smiled and spoke pleasantly to everyone he kept catching my eye and grinning, making it obvious to even the most persistent of them he wasn’t available. Smiling, and impressing myself with how well I was taking it all, I just sat back and enjoyed watching him, and fending off the occasional hopeful suitor myself, though when they saw Sirius they tended to back off voluntarily. Even without his eyes flashing dangerously, for some reason other blokes generally seemed to find him rather intimidating.

It was quite interesting, spending time with Sirius outside school, because a reasonable amount of what he did wasn’t necessarily, shall we say, legal. Not that he was a criminal or anything, but more that he didn’t always think the rules that governed everyone else should apply to him. It was only small stuff – things like using Refilling Charms on our drinks, or a Repelling or Confundus Charm on anyone who looked like they might ask some awkward questions, and I had a strong suspicion that when out on the bike he ignored anything inconvenient such as speed limits or helmets – but it took some getting used to, particularly considering what my mother did for a living.

I wasn’t surprised when we got back to his flat at the end of the night to find he had some Sobering Solution handy to help prevent hangovers, nor that the bottle was close to empty from what was most probably frequent use. Moderation and Sirius weren’t necessarily two words I would have used in the same sentence. I was however grateful for the potion as we only had two days together and I didn’t want one of them ruined by a hangover.

Fortunately the potion was a good one and it was with a mercifully clear head that I woke up the next morning to find Sirius still asleep, one arm around me. He looked so peaceful – I realised I’d never seen him sleep before, and there was something rather endearing about it. Or maybe that was just because it was him. I nestled in closer to him so I could feel his even breaths and wondered what he was dreaming about.

Not long afterwards he woke up and smiled as his eyes focused and he realised I was there. “Good,” he said, pulling me in even closer, “it wasn’t a dream after all.”

“Did you want me to pinch you, just to be on the safe side?” I asked, reaching for one of his more delicate areas.

“Not there,” he said, waking up more quickly. “Not a pinch, at least.”

“Okay,” I said, “I’ll be more gentle. Though I still need to convince you you’re not dreaming.”

He leaned in and kissed me, his stubble catching the edges of my lips. “I think we can come up with a way of doing that.”

Once we finally got up and had breakfast we worked out how best to spend the day. With the current climate in the Wizarding world, Diagon Alley and surrounds were decidedly uncomfortable as people scurried around, harried and stressed, trying not to stay out too long in case they had a run in with the Death Eaters. As a result we chose to spend our time together in Muggle London. It was still dangerous, but Muggle attacks were far rarer and more random than those on wizards, and so even with the threat of arbitrary IRA bombings we counted it a safer bet. Besides, even though my dad worked at the Ministry he was very unlikely to venture out into Muggle areas on his lunch break, and Sirius knew Muggle London well as he’d escaped there several times over the years to get away from his parents, knowing it would annoy them.

Sirius was also keen to check out the latest motorbikes on the market in case he could pick up any ideas for his own bike, so we wandered around a few dealerships chatting to sales staff about horsepower and ride quality and trying to talk them into letting him take a test ride even though he couldn’t produce a licence. I’m almost ashamed to say that a couple of times we resorted to using Confundus Charms on reluctant salesmen when there was a bike he particularly liked the look of. (See what I mean about not always being entirely legal?)

Our trawl through the motorcycle dealerships was done on his bike, which obviously didn’t need the spare parts I’d seen on the floor next to it to work. We soared along the streets – as I’d suspected, without helmets – with the bike surging beneath us as Sirius tried to find a way out of the heavy London traffic. Even with us scooting through tight spaces we shouldn’t by rights have been able to fit in, and avoiding much of the bustle, we were still occasionally overtaken by people walking their dogs or pushing prams, until eventually Sirius had had enough. We jerked to a halt in a dead end alleyway and he turned around to look at me.

“How do you feel about taking off?”

“Over London?” I hadn’t been expecting that, but I couldn’t deny it would be a thrill. “Yeah, why not?”

“Right.” He grinned at me over his shoulder, Disillusioned both of us and the bike, and we took off into the air, narrowly avoiding some power lines on the way up. As before, it was exhilarating, though this time we had the added difficulty of staying away from tall buildings, electrical wires, planes and even the occasional blimp. Finally we landed not far from Sirius’ building, feeling rather windswept but definitely on a high. This was amazing – the whole thing, the motorcycle, the rush of London, just being with Sirius when there were no teachers or parents around, no risk of getting caught. This was how I wanted to live the rest of my life.

****

Unfortunately, while keeping our personal safety in mind while enjoying Muggle London we had forgotten the more minor hazard of getting caught by my family, and it all very nearly went pear-shaped late that afternoon in Hyde Park, when I spotted one of my many relatives in the distance.

“Oh, bugger,” I said under my breath.

“What is it?” Sirius tensed like a dog on a scent.

“It’s my aunt. Quick, hide!” I didn’t think she’d seen us yet: her concentration was on keeping hold of the many shopping bags she was carrying.

Sirius looked around swiftly to make sure no one was watching us, and a second later the huge black dog was bounding alongside me, its tail wagging furiously as it darted around , snapping at birds and swaying tree branches.

“Aunt Gina! Hi!” I said brightly, hoping she hadn’t spotted Sirius before he’d transformed.

“Laura, dear! What a lovely surprise! But what are you doing in London?”

“I’m staying with a friend from school,” I said. It was true, after all, just not the friend my parents thought it was.

“Right. Where is she?”

“Oh, she’s back at her place, I just needed some fresh air,” I invented. “She and her mum were busy with wedding preparations for her brother, so I offered to take their dog for a walk.” I looked down at Sirius. “This is – Snuffles,” I added, indicating the dog and hoping she didn’t notice the brief pause as I came up with a name.

Aunt Gina eyed the enormous bear-like dog doubtfully. “Without a lead? I hope it’s well trained,” she said. “If it gets out of hand you won’t be able to control it, not a dog that size.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” I said. “He’s perfectly well trained, wouldn’t hurt a fly.” _Bar Slytherins and Death Eaters_ , I added in my head, though Aunt Gina didn’t need to know that. I smiled brightly – this bit wasn’t even lying.

“If you say so, dear,” she said. “Anyway, lovely as it is to see you, I’d better get back, I’ve got the Sheridans coming over for dinner.” And she took off towards the nearest tube station.

Within seconds Sirius was back in human form. “Snuffles?” he asked accusingly. “’SNUFFLES? That’s a cute name! I’m not cute! I’m rugged, and manly, and sexy!” He pouted at me.

I laughed. “It was the best I could come up with on the spot. And I hate to break it to you, _Snuffles_ , but there’s times you’re very cute.” I squeezed his hand affectionately. “Though you’re a bit bigger than the dog we have at home. I can understand why she’d be a bit uneasy.”

He laughed. “What do you have at home?”

“Cocker spaniel,” I said. “Called Jessie. Original, isn’t it?”

“Well, it could be worse,” he said, putting an arm around me. “You could have called it Snuffles.”

Suddenly I stopped dead again. “We have to tell Mary.”

“Tell her what?”

“That she’s supposed to have an enormous black dog called Snuffles. Aunt Gina is Mum’s sister, she’s bound to mention it. She’s probably about to call Mum as we speak, she’s a hell of a gossip, and me walking Mary’s dog for her is the sort of inane thing that Mum’s bound to bring up at some stage,” I said. “And that means I’ll have to tell Mary about Padfoot. Otherwise it’s not going to make any sense.”

“So she doesn’t know?”

“Of course not,” I said. “I promised not to say anything, and it was never my secret to tell anyway. And there are awful implications for Remus …” I left the sentence hanging. He knew what I meant.

“Right,” he said, clearly thinking furiously. “We tell her about Padfoot. But not about Prongs, or Wormtail, and definitely not about Moony. We’ll just say I wanted to try it and worked it out on my own. I dunno, to get away from my family or something.”

I nodded. “I can work with that. But we’ll have to do it now, you never know when Aunt Gina will get hold of my mother. You know, telephones?” Every now and then I was really pleased he took Muggle Studies, it made some things so much easier. “Let’s go back to your place, I’ll Floo her from there.”

We quickly Apparated back to Sirius’ flat, where I stuck my head in his fireplace and called out Mary’s address. Once I’d convinced Mary it was really me (these precautions due to the war were really getting old, I thought), I explained the situation and she took the news surprisingly well for someone who was up to their ears in silver and white invitations, balloons and streamers. “Animagus? Well I’ll be,” she said, as if nothing could surprise her any more. “I prob’ly need t’ see the dug, though, if it’s goin’ t’ be convincing. Can I Floo o’er?”

I checked with Sirius, who agreed and unlocked the Floo so she could come through. Within seconds she had arrived and was dusting herself off.

“Nice place,” she said, looking around appraisingly. “Ye’ve made it pretty comfortable. Anyway, this dug I’m supposed t’ have …” She looked expectantly at Sirius.

The normally unflappable Mary froze mid-gesture when he transformed. “Ye know, I though’ Laura was exaggerating,” she said in disbelief. “Ye’ve really done it. Well done!”

Sirius resumed his human form and shrugged. “You live with a family like mine, and you’ll do anything to get a bit of peace.” I had to hand it to him, he did sound believable.

“All right, Snuffles,” Mary said. “Ye can be my dug. If ye lik’, ye can even come o’er when Laura’s da comes t’ pick her up on the morra, run aroond the back yard lik’ ye live there. I’m sure we can conjure ye up a dug hoose fer an hour or so.”

He grinned at her. “Sounds like a plan.”

“No worries,” she said to his unspoken thank you. “I’d bes’ be gettin’ back now afore Ma notices I’m gone an’ calls in the Aurors.” And with a smile and a wave, she was gone.

****

That evening we sat on the balcony with a bottle of Firewhisky, watching the neighbours through their windows and making up stories to fit what they were doing. Eventually we headed back inside and sat under a rug on the sofa, doing the crossword from the _Daily Prophet_. The fire was crackling away merrily, the rest of the paper lying discarded on the floor and a Hobgoblins record playing in the background. I rested my head on his shoulder and he was gently stroking my hair as we sat there trying to figure out the answer to fourteen down.

We were interrupted by an owl tapping on the window – clearly the post could get through whatever enchantments had been put on the balcony. Sirius hurried over to the door and opened it, and the owl flew straight to me and deposited a letter on the table next to me. I quickly unfolded it.

“It’s from Mary,” I said after I’d scanned it. “Dad’s been asking questions, he’s tried to check up on me three times and I haven’t been there for any of them, and she thinks he’s getting suspicious.” I looked up glumly. “It looks like I’m going to have to go home.”

“No,” he said. “No. You’ve only just got here, you can’t leave yet.”

“Only just got here? Sirius, I’ve been here more than twenty-four hours, you can’t complain.”

“Of course I can complain,” he said, closing the door after the owl left again. “I thought I had you for two days. I don’t want to lose you yet.”

“Well, it doesn’t look like I’ve got much choice,” I said, possibly a little more tetchily than I’d intended. “Otherwise we’re going to get caught, and then I’ll have trouble seeing you at all.”

“What, would they stop you from going back to school? I can’t see that, not when you’ve got all these rules to make sure you do well.” He looked at me resolutely. “Look, you’re of age, you’re nearly qualified, it won’t be much longer till they’ve not no control over you. Ignore the letter. Stay.”

“I want to,” I said. “I really do. But I don’t think I can.” I headed towards the bedroom so I could pack my things up.

“Of course you can,” he said, hurrying over and standing in the doorway, preventing me from going through. “Come on, it’s only another day. It won’t hurt them.”

“It might hurt Mary. Dad can get pretty irate.”

“She’ll be fine,” he insisted. “Stay. Please?”

I shook my head, hating myself for doing this to him. “I can’t.” I pushed past him and started throwing clothes into my overnight bag.

He followed me in and leaned against the wall, his hair falling into his eyes and a disappointed look on his face. “You’re really going to leave because of this?”

“I don’t want to get Mary in trouble,” I said, trying not to look at him and hoping he didn’t notice the tears that were forming in the corners of my eyes. I didn’t want to leave either, but I didn’t see how I could stay and still keep my parents in the dark.

“What if I could take care of Mary?” Sirius asked, his voice hopeful. “Make sure she doesn’t get in trouble for anything?”

I turned to face him sceptically. “And just how are you going to do that?”

“I don’t know,” he said, his eyes on the floor. “But I’ll think of something. I have to.” He looked up. “Please don’t leave, Laura. Stay with me. One more night, like we planned. Please.”

I looked at him, wanting desperately to be able to do as he asked. “I really shouldn’t.”

“Please,” he said again, sounding despondent. “Please, Laura. I love you.”


	50. Cataclysm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laura has to decide whether to stay in London or return home. And then something happens which changes everything.

I looked at Sirius in shock, not really believing my own ears. Did he just say what I thought he’d said? Or were my ears playing tricks on me, making his words sound like something I wanted so desperately to hear?

“What was that?”

“I love you,” he said again. Right, that was definitely what he’d said. I couldn’t mis-hear twice, could I?

I dropped my overnight bag and went to him, focusing my attention on unbuttoning his shirt all the way down and resting my hands on his chest before I could trust myself to look at his face. His heart was beating so fast I was surprised it hadn’t burst out of his ribcage. Reaching up, I kissed him softly, just a light one, no tongue, and then gave his lower lip a gentle bite for good measure.

“I love you too,” I whispered, not really believing it had actually come to this.

He wrapped his arms around me tightly, looking relieved. “So,” he whispered, “will you stay?”

How could I not, after something like that? “Yes, I’ll stay,” I said, pulling back from him only far enough to ease his shirt off his shoulders and drop it to the floor behind him. “Screw Dad.”

“Well, that wasn’t quite what I had in mind. Nice as I’m sure your father is, he isn’t really my type.”

“You know what I mean,” I said, smiling as I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him towards me.

He smiled too as he pulled my t-shirt off over my head, then walked me backwards until my legs hit the bed, and pushed me down onto it. “Now this,” he murmured, “is much more like it.”

It was different than usual, more real, like the airing of those words made everything more intense. I wouldn’t have believed it could make that much of a difference, but every touch was electric, every caress surging, every kiss extended. If this was what love was really about, I could understand why people would try to move mountains for it. At that moment, I thought I might try to do that, too.

“It’s funny,” Sirius said later as we lay there, arms around each other, “that was much easier to say than I’d thought it would be.”

“What, I love you?”

He nodded. “Yep. I was terrified, you know. It’s not something I’ve ever had to say to anyone before.”

I looked at him, surprised. “Not even your parents?”

He shook his head. “Put it this way, Laura, displays of affection aren’t exactly encouraged in my family. This has all been a pretty steep learning curve for me.”

I shook my head too. “And to think I was frightened to say anything in case it scared you off. I didn’t want to lose you.”

“You know, it might have,” he said. “Scared me, that is. Dione said it once and I pretty much ran out the door.” He smiled ruefully. “But I don’t think you would have lost me. I would have just needed some time to get my head around it.”

“But you’re okay with it now?”

He paused. “I must be,” he said, frowning slightly. “The thing is, it’s been like this for ages,” he went on slowly, like he was trying to find the right words. “I just didn’t realise what it meant. It’s like – you fill in the gaps where I’m missing things. I’m a better person because of you … I think about things more, about consequences and things. You complete me. And I don’t ever want to lose that.”

I snuggled in closer. “Well I’m not planning on going anywhere. And you’d better not, either, I don’t think I could live without you.”

“Nah, you’re stuck with me now. Whether you like it or not. I have no intention of letting you go.”

I giggled suddenly. “You do realise we can never get married, though.”

He looked surprised. “Why not?”

“We’ve killed off all the criteria for someone to marry into the House of Black,” I said with a grin. “I don’t pass a single one of them. In Slytherin – no. Pure-blood – no. One of the oldest wizarding families – no,” I went on, counting the conditions on my fingers as I ticked them off. “No Muggles or Squibs in the family – no. No interest in you beyond surname and Gringotts vault – big no. And obedient and virginal – no. That’s it, I’ve ruled myself out entirely.”

He laughed and pulled me towards him again. “You’re right, I don’t think you’d survive the vetting process. My dear mother would probably have a heart attack if you were even suggested. That’s if she actually had a heart, of course.” He paused and kissed my forehead lightly. “I knew there was a reason I escaped.”

Suddenly I sat bolt upright. “Oh no. I never replied to Mary!”

“What are you going to tell her?”

“Just to tell Dad I’m not there,” I said with a shrug. “I’ll wear it. Like you said, short of pulling me out of school, which is pretty unlikely, there’s not actually all that much they can do to me.”

He made a bit of a face. “I wish my family was like that.”

“What do you mean?”

“Not getting wands out when they don’t like what you’ve been doing,” he said. “My folks were pretty strong on – er – discipline.”

I stared at him, horrified. “They _attacked_ you?”

“You could say that. How do you think I first learned to fight?”

“So that’s what James’ dad meant,” I said. “When he said you showed up on Christmas Day covered in cuts and bruises.”

Sirius shrugged. “They all healed. It wasn’t much worse than any other time.”

 “Well, thank goodness you got out,” I said, wrapping my arms around him protectively. “I don’t want anything to happen to you. You’re mine now.”

He smiled and allowed me to kiss him, but then pushed me away again. “Weren’t you going to talk to Mary?”

My hand went to my mouth – with everything else, it had once again slipped my mind. “Right. Of course. I kinda forgot.”

“I noticed,” he said. “Now, what were you going to do? Letter or Floo?”

“Floo’s probably better,” I said. “Quicker, you know?”

“Then you’d better put some clothes on. Not that I encourage that, of course, but you probably don’t want to stick your head in the fireplace with nothing on. I don’t want any sparks getting you.”

Recognising the truth in this, I hurriedly found some clothes and made my way over to the fireplace. Sprinkling in the Floo powder and calling out Mary’s address, I soon found myself face to face with her and her mother.

Mrs Macdonald immediately pointed her wand at me. “Middle name?”

I grinned. “Elizabeth.”

“Nickname you give haggis?”

“What, rotting sheep gut? That’s not a nickname, that’s the truth.”

She finally lowered her wand and smiled. “Okay, Laura, I’m convinced. Sorry, but we just can’t be too careful at the moment.”

I nodded. “Yeah, I understand. I was there yesterday, remember?”

“Anyway, I’m pleased to see you,” she said, her expression changing from friendly to warning. “Your father’s been asking questions. We can only cover for you for so long, you know.”

“I know,” I said. “Sorry about that. I didn’t expect him to be this persistent, he’s been that busy at work lately I thought we could get away with it.” I took a breath. “If he comes back, tell him I’m not there. Tell him I’m staying with someone else, that you didn’t want to let me but I went off anyway, but I’ll be back tomorrow at four o’clock like we arranged. That way you don’t get in trouble. I’ll cop whatever’s coming to me.”

Mary looked concerned. “Are ye sure?” she asked, picking a bit of silver streamer off her shoe. “What will ye tell them?”

“The same thing,” I said. “That I was staying with someone else. They don’t need to know who.” I looked her in the eye and gave her the same argument Sirius had used on me. “Look, I’m of age, I’m almost qualified, they’ve got very little say in what I do any more. I’ll wear the consequences.”

“Well, if that’s what you want to do,” said Mrs Macdonald, looking a little doubtful. “Are you going to them yourself now?”

I nodded. “I think I’d better. Wish me luck!”

Pausing only to rub my knees a bit where I’d been kneeling on the hearth, I sprinkled some more Floo powder into the fire and called out my own address. When the living room materialised, Bea was sitting on the sofa, immersed in a book. “Laura!” she said with surprise as she looked up. “What are you doing here?”

“I was about to ask you the same thing,” I said. “You’re not usually back from work this early, are you?” With the war the way it was, both Bea and Dad were not often home much before eight o’clock. It drove Mum round the twist when it came to working out when dinner time would be.

She shrugged. “Felt a bit off this morning, thought I’d take a sick day.”

That’d be right. Typical Bea. She didn’t look ill in the slightest. Swallowing my immediate reaction, which was to figuratively beat her about the head a bit, I changed the subject. “Mum or Dad home?”

She nodded. “Mum is, on call as usual though. Dad’s working late - _again_. Laura, where are you? You’re in so much trouble. Dad’s been going spare.”

“I’m safe,” I said. “And that’s all you need to know. Can you get Mum, please?”

“Sure,” she said, rolling her eyes a bit and putting her book down with the page marked. “Back in a mo.”

Seconds later my mother arrived in front of the fireplace, her face a combination of concern and anger. “Where have you been, young lady?” she demanded. “We’ve been worried sick. Never at Mary’s, and then Gina said she’d seen you miles from the Macdonalds’ house with the biggest dog she’d ever seen. What’s going on?”

“I left Mary’s,” I said. “They didn’t want me to, but I did. I’m staying somewhere else for tonight. But I’m safe, and I’m happy, and I’ll be back tomorrow at four o’clock like we arranged.”

She came over and tried to pull me through the Floo, but I evaded her grip. “Don’t even try it,” I warned. “If you try that again I’ll disappear. I’m not risking this being traced.”

Her face fell – even as a Muggle, she knew the Floo tracking system only worked when it was used for an actual journey rather than just a communication like this. Giving up, she sat back down again, looking resigned.

“Why, Laura?”

“I had things I wanted to do. And I couldn’t do them at Mary’s house.”

“So why didn’t Mary’s mother let us know you’d gone?”

I shrugged, forgetting she wouldn’t have been able to see that. “I asked her not to.”

She eyed me beadily. “Have you and Mary fought?”

I shook my head. “No, we haven’t. This has nothing to do with Mary, really.”

“Is it about a boy, then?” Typical Mum, always getting to the bottom of things. Sometimes I really wished she wasn’t so perceptive. In any case, I made my face as blank as I could.

“Why would you think that?” I said. “I’m not allowed to have anything to do with boys this year, remember? It might put me off my NEWTs.”

Mum was looking worried again, no matter how hard she tried to hide it. “Well, these people you’re staying with, whoever they are,” she said, “are they trustworthy?”

I nodded. “Yes. Absolutely.”

She didn’t look convinced. “Are you sure? Can you even _be_ sure? You’ve heard your father talking about it, at the Ministry no one can tell who’s on what side, who’s been Imperiused, who might have been recruited. They all SAY they’re working against the Death Eaters, but if the Ministry doesn’t know who to believe … I don’t know, Laura, I was confident about the Macdonalds, but I can’t be confident about anyone I don’t know, no matter what you think about them.”

“I can understand that,” I said. “But I’d stake my life on it. The person – the people I’m with, they’re completely one hundred percent on our side.” I looked at her. “Just try to trust my judgement on this, okay?”

She looked doubtful. “I don’t know, Laura,” she said again.

“I’m safe,” I insisted. “I promise.”

“I’m amazed Bev Macdonald let you go,” she said, shaking her head a bit. “With all the precautions they’re taking with Andrew’s wedding, letting you go off with strangers like this seems irresponsible. It’s not like her.”

The ghost of a smile danced around my lips – this offered me another argument. “Well, maybe she thought I’d be safer where I was going, than with them. She clearly thought that where I was going was safe. Maybe you should be willing to trust both of our judgements.”

Mum frowned. Clearly still not convinced, she tried another tack. “Are you still in London?”

“Yes, I’m in London,” I admitted. “Why?”

She just shook her head. “If you don’t start giving me some information I can use, I’ll get the force over there to start looking for you.”

“Right,” I said. “You do that. Look, I’ve got to go.” I wasn’t kidding, either – my knees were killing me. “I’m safe, I’m secure, and I’ll be back tomorrow at four. Bye!”

While I’d been in the fire Sirius had got dressed and pulled a couple of bottles of Butterbeer out of the cupboard, and was in the process of putting a Cooling Charm on them. “How did it go?”

“Not really sure,” I said, pulling the top off my bottle and having a drink. “I guess I’ll find out tomorrow.”

“But no wands drawn?” he asked as I joined him on the sofa.

I shook my head, trying to suppress a smile. “Would have been funny if there were considering it was Mum I spoke to. I don’t think she’d even know which end to hold.”

He just sat there for a little while, watching me. “Look, you’re not regretting this, are you? I know I put a lot of pressure on you.”

I pretended to think about that. “Hmm, going home and being grounded for the rest of the holidays versus being here with you. Not that hard a decision, really.” I grinned at him and picked up the _Daily Prophet_ we had discarded earlier, finding the page with the crossword again. “Now, where were we up to?”

****

I woke up the next morning to find Sirius kissing the back of my shoulders. Smiling, I rolled over and looked at him through bleary eyes.

“Ah, she awakes,” he said, putting his arms around me.

“Hard not to with you doing that,” I said, stifling a yawn and returning the embrace.

“I was just enjoying you being here. I could get used to this very easily, waking up next to you every morning.”

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” I said with a smile. “But we shouldn’t get too used to it,” I went on, tracing his spine with my finger. “I’m going home this afternoon to goodness only knows what punishments, and then we’re going back to school, so it will be back to sneaking around empty classrooms and behind tapestries again.”

“You had to remind me,” he said, pouting. “I guess we’d better make the most of this morning, then.” He kissed me seductively and I smiled again, running my fingers down his back in anticipation.

An hour or so later we emerged and I settled down with the previous evening’s paper while he set about making breakfast. I’d discovered that generally he wasn’t much of a cook but he did have breakfast down pat, so I let him fuss over eggs and bacon and toast and tea to his heart’s content.

“Oh, that’s nice,” I said, my eyes roaming the wedding notices. “Frank Longbottom married Alice Bradley. Do you remember him?”

Sirius looked up and grinned. “Of course I remember Longbottom, he was a riot. What was he, three, four years ahead of us?”

“Two years ahead of Bea,” I said, thinking back. “So that would make him four years ahead of us. Alice, if she’s that Ravenclaw girl I’m thinking of, was in the year below.”

“I heard he’s an Auror now, or in training to be one if he hasn’t finished it,” Sirius said. “Alice Bradley, was it?” He frowned. “I think she might be too.”

“Well they’ll never be out of work then, will they?” I said with a bit of a sour smile, turning the page. “Ugh. Speaking of which.” I had seen a report of an attack a couple of days earlier on a Muggle village. “Dementors swarmed a village in Kent. Seventeen people Kissed, including a ten year old boy. Dad will just love that.”

His face got very serious. “I heard about that,” he said grimly, pointing his wand at the bacon to make it turn over in the pan. “No wizards around, of course, so no one could cast a Patronus in time. Just Muggle baiting. It makes me sick.”

“Me too,” I said. “Ooh, looks like an Avery’s been arrested. Not for the Dementors, this is for something else. Tartarus Avery, suspected of being connected with the torture and murder of Ian Crockford. That could well be Charon’s dad, don’t you think?”

“Very likely. We all know what Charon’s capable of. Just ask Lenny Dodderidge.”

“And here’s a Muggle family who got attacked, the Dark Mark was over their house and everything,” I said, my attention caught by another article. “Seems their son had married a witch. That’s the sort of thing Mrs Macdonald was talking about, I guess – targeting intermarriages. No wonder they’ve got all that security organised. And no wonder Mum was worried, she’ll be thinking it’ll be her and Dad next.” I paused, my eyes roaming the text as I tried to avoid thinking about an attack on my family. “It doesn’t actually say if the son of this family was a wizard or not, but I think it’s implied.”

“Who was it?”

“Brocklehurst is the surname. The son’s name isn’t mentioned but there wouldn’t be too many of those around, would there?”

“Probably not,” he said, carrying two plates of food to the dining table. I got up to join him. “I think there might have been a Brocklehurst in one of the upper years when we were just starting at Hogwarts,” he continued, frowning slightly as we sat down. “I could be wrong, though.” He paused, looking at me. “You’re worried about your folks, aren’t you.” It wasn’t even a question, more just a statement that wanted confirmation.

I nodded. “If they’re targeting intermarriages,” I began, letting my voice trail off. He knew what I meant.

He looked very serious. “Yep, I’ve heard that too. Reading between the lines, though, it seems they’re focussing on the new marriages, not the older ones that already have children. You know, send a warning that this sort of behaviour isn’t acceptable, try to stop anyone else doing it.”

I breathed out, not having realised till then I’d been holding it in. That did make me feel just a little better, though another concern soon struck me. “What about Lily and James?”

He shrugged, though his face was still rather grave. “It’s an issue, but I suspect that by the time they get to that point the focus will have moved to something else. I can’t see them targeting intermarriages for years on end, not really. And Prongs and Lily are years away from getting married I would have thought.” I nodded, wondering if he was trying to convince me about this, or himself.

In any case I felt a little appeased, and turned back to my breakfast. “How long do you think this will all go on for?”

“Until someone takes Voldemort out for good,” he said somewhat viciously. “And if I can help that to happen …”

“Just don’t get yourself killed in the process,” I said, knowing that nothing I said would convince him not to fight. And I wasn’t sure I wanted him not to fight, in any case – his abhorrence of what Voldemort stood for and his determination to do something about it was part of who he was and what I loved about him. Besides, as the daughter of a police officer I was used to living with a little uncertainty. “I don’t want to have to live without you.”

“No fear of that,” he said, leaning back on the rear legs of his chair and smiling suddenly at me. “They’d have to catch me first.”

“There’s nothing I can do, is there?” I asked a little tentatively as I nibbled on a piece of toast. “To protect Mum and Dad, if they are targeted?”

“I don’t think there is,” he said, the front legs of his chair hitting the floor again. “If there’s a real threat, the Ministry will do what needs to be done, I’m sure of it. The best thing you can do, aside from following any security protocols that get set up, is to keep yourself safe at all times.” He paused. “And you can always come here, use it as a safe house if you need to. Oh, that reminds me, give me your wand.” Abandoning the rest of his breakfast, he stood up and held his hand out expectantly.

Another sudden change of subject, and one that took me completely unawares. “What?”

“Give me your wand,” he said. “I have to set it up for the locks here.”

My jaw dropped. He was giving me wand access to his flat? That was a big step, the equivalent of handing over a key to the front door, even if it was only because he was offering it as a safe house. However, I wasn’t about to argue. Hastily swallowing my eggs, I fished in my pocket and handed it over. “Here you go.”

He gave it a bit of a twirl. “Nice,” he said, looking like he was weighing it in his hand. “What is it?”

“Beech and unicorn hair. Ten inches, from memory.”

“Right. Mine’s twelve and three-quarter inches, this feels a bit short for me. Suits you though.” And, opening the door, he tapped the lock first with his wand and then with mine, and did a couple of very complicated-looking movements before hitting the lock again, first with my wand this time and then with his. “That should do it. I’ll lock up and we’ll try it out. Tap it twice. The spell’s just _Alohomora_ , but it has to be done with your wand, and most of these flats are Muggle so you should probably do it non-verbally.”

We went into the corridor where he got his own wand out and locked the door. I followed his instructions and sure enough, the door unlocked for me.

Sirius looked pleased. “Excellent. Now it’s your place as well.”

I was still taking this in when we were interrupted by the frantic knocking of an owl on one of the windows that opened onto the balcony, and as we let it in I realised it was Cerridwyn.

Taking the letter from her leg, I opened it, a sinking feeling in my chest as I realised it could only really be from one person. One look at the handwriting told me I was right. “Oh, crap. It’s from Dad. Now I’m really for it.”

Sirius tensed. “What does he say?”

I shrugged. “Probably outlining what punishments I’ve got waiting for me once four o’clock comes around.” I scanned the letter, wondering what was in store.

He said something else but I didn’t hear him – everything was drowned out by what Dad had written. Wordlessly, I dropped the parchment to the floor and clutched at Sirius, feeling the blood draining from my face.

“No.”

He looked worried. “Laura, what is it?”

I just shook my head. “No. No, it can’t be true.”

Now he really was alarmed. “What?”

I began to shake uncontrollably. “It’s Mary …”

He somehow picked up the letter while still holding onto me – there was no way known I was going to let go of him anytime soon – and sat both of us down on the sofa. “ _Laura, what’s going on?_ ” he read aloud. “ _I don’t know where you’re staying but if you’re not with the Macdonalds you may not have heard. I’ve just been at their house after word came in at work that someone had seen a Dark Mark above it …_ ” His voice trailed off. “The Dark Mark? Above Mary’s house? But that must mean …”

I shook my head. “No. It can’t be true. I was just there yesterday …”

Sirius swallowed and looked back at the letter. “ _A Dark Mark was reported above it, and Bev, Mary and Andrew are there_ – who’re Bev and Andrew?” he asked, clearly a little sidetracked.

“Her mum and her brother,” I whispered, hiccoughing uncomfortably.

“Right. I met her, on Tuesday, didn’t I?” I nodded dumbly, my breath uneven due to the sobs I couldn’t stop, and he went back to the letter in his hand, his voice breaking a little. “ _Bev, Mary and Andrew are there … I’m sorry, Laura, they’re all dead. Do you know anything about what happened? Is this why you wouldn’t stay with them? Are you even still alive?_ ” Sirius dropped the letter to the floor and swallowed again, and when he spoke once more his voice was tense and shaking, not like his usual voice at all. “I can’t believe it,” he said finally, his face pale as a ghost’s and his arms wrapping around me tightly. “They’ve killed Mary.”


	51. Mary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laura - and everyone else - tries to come to terms with the fact that Mary's not around any more.

There had to be some kind of mistake. It couldn’t be true, it just couldn’t. I’d only seen her, spoken to her the previous night, and everything had been fine then.

“Not Mary,” I said, hoping against hope there had been a mistake. “They haven’t killed Mary. They can’t have.”

Sirius looked very grave. “Would your dad lie to you about something like this?”

“She can’t be dead,” I insisted, hiccoughing uncomfortably. “I was only there last night, she was fine. She can’t be. It can’t be true.”

“I don’t want to believe it either,” he said, his face still pale, his voice still shaking.

“I have to go home,” I said. “Dad will tell me it was all a mistake, that they’re all fine. He has to. It can’t be true.”

“Of course,” he said. The shock had got to him, too. “I’ll take you to Bristol, okay?”

I got up and packed up my belongings, even extricating myself from Sirius, who’d had a very firm grip on me as he muttered continuously, “What if you’d been there, what if you’d been there.” It was true, of course – I was supposed to be there, and I couldn’t help but feel it should have happened to me, too. If Dad’s letter was true, then I was only alive because I had lied to him. It was a horrible thought.

Somehow Sirius managed to Apparate both of us to central Bristol, and from there I took us to a small park around the corner from my parents’ house, usually empty and therefore useful for appearing suddenly out of nowhere. As Padfoot he walked with me to my front door, and as I let myself in I glanced over my shoulder at the black dog, sitting silently underneath the oak tree across the street, half hidden in the shade.

Still not really understanding how I managed to function that well, I fumbled with my keys and soon found myself inside the entrance hall. Mum came into the room cautiously, having clearly heard a noise.

“Laura, it’s you!” she cried, sheer relief written all over her face. “You’re alive!!” She dropped the kitchen knife she had been holding warily in front of her. Not being magical, she had next to no defences against Death Eaters, but plainly she had wanted to do what she could in case ours was the next house targeted.

“I’m alive,” I said shakily, sinking into her as she wrapped me up in the biggest bear hug I’d ever had. “It’s okay, Mum. I’m okay.”

“Oh, thank God,” she whispered.

“Where’s Dad?” I asked, looking around for him. “He’ll tell me it was all a mistake, that everyone’s okay.” My face fell when I saw her expression. “No,” I insisted. “It can’t be true. I was only there last night, everything was fine. It has to be a mistake.”

“I’m so sorry,” she said, her arms still around me.

“No,” I said again, panicking slightly. The idea that I could be wrong was more than I could accept. “Not Mary. She can’t be dead. Not Mary. They made a mistake, they were all unconscious, they weren’t dead. They made a mistake.”

She shook her head slowly. “They called the Healers in to make sure. I’m so sorry, Laura.”

“It was a mistake,” I said. Maybe if I said the words enough times it would make them true.

Trying to get through my denials, Mum walked me into the living room and sat me on the sofa with her. “Your father says they were all hit by _Avada Kedavra_ s. So, at least, it wouldn’t have been painful for them.”

“But she can’t be,” I said. “Mary can’t be. It’s just not right.”

“I know,” she murmured reassuringly.

I looked up at her, my heart sinking. Surely this was just some horrible game they were playing? But Mum had plainly been crying and her eyes were grave. She looked just like someone who was telling the truth. “But why?” I asked a little hysterically. “Why would someone do that? Mary never hurt anyone!”

“They think it was because of Andrew’s engagement. Death Eaters don’t leave notes explaining their actions, of course, but the fact intermarriages are being targeted makes the Ministry think that was why.” Her voice was shaky and I could tell she was worried about her own safety - after all, if Andrew Macdonald could be killed just for intending to marry a Muggle-born, what might be in store for Auster Cauldwell?

“No,” I insisted. “If it was that, then they would have gone for the Muggle-born, not the pure-blood. It’s not that, and they’re not dead.”

She shook her head again. “I’m so sorry. They think this was intended to be a warning … you know, not even the pure-bloods are safe if they do the wrong thing.”

The awful realisation started sinking in – this was real after all. No matter how hard I wished otherwise, Mary wouldn’t be coming back. I sank back onto the sofa, the tears flowing freely.

Mary.

Mary my best friend, the one who’d been there for me since I was eleven years old. Mary, who had agreed to be complicit in taking in my parents for this trip to London. Mary, who had shared all her secrets with me. Mary, who I would never see again.

I felt absolutely hollow. I’d never lost anyone before, not anyone close like this, and I just couldn’t believe Mary wouldn’t be around anymore. She’d been so much a part of my life for the past seven years that her absence, even for a short while, seemed impossible. Let alone forever.

My sobs were interrupted by Dad’s arrival – for some reason he’d not gone to work that day, maybe so he could be home in case I did come back. “Is that you, Laura?” he asked quickly.

“Yes, it’s me,” I said, blinking through my tears. “It’s okay, Dad. I’m okay.”

Dad pulled his wand out suddenly and looked sternly at Mum. “Let go of her, Denise, and move slowly away.”

Mum looked surprised, but then understanding dawned across her face and she did his bidding. Dad pointed his wand at me.

“What was your first word?”

“Wand,” I said. It looked like he was going to give me twenty questions to make sure I was really me – which I suppose was understandable, considering what had just happened.

“The name of the little girl who lived next door in Wales?”

“Megan. Megan Williams. And she had a brother called Gareth, who was a couple of years younger than she was.”

“And your last Muggle teacher?”

“Mrs Johnson,” I said, resenting this all of a sudden. I’d just lost my best friend, and he was bugging me about my childhood? “Is that enough or do you want to know my favourite storybook character as well? Or the last record I bought?”

“No, that’s all right,” Mum said. “Put your wand down, Auster, it’s her.” Dad put his wand away obediently and Mum came to embrace me again.

“Thank Merlin you’re all right,” Dad said, giving me a hug as well, which showed how worried he had actually been. He was never very demonstrative. “Where were you? We had no way of knowing what might have happened, no way of finding out if you were even alive or not.”

“I was in London,” I said. “I was safe. I was secure. I encountered absolutely no Death Eaters.”

“But what was wrong with the Macdonalds’ house? That was where you’d asked to go, where we’d given permission for you to be.”

My eyes filled with tears again. “It’s got the Dark Mark over it, Dad. I would have thought that meant something was horribly wrong there.”

“But you didn’t know that would happen,” Dad said. “Or did you? Is there something you’re not telling us?”

I glared at him through tear-filled eyes. “Do you really think that, if I knew Mary was going to be attacked, I wouldn’t have said something? What sort of person do you think I am?”

Dad baulked. “Of course,” he said, looking down. “Sorry.” After a moment, though, he raised his head again. “So why weren’t you there? If you didn’t know this was going to happen, then why would you leave?” He hesitated. “Look, Laura, there are Death Eaters out there and you’ve learned they can attack anywhere, at any time. We just need to know you’re safe.”

“There was somewhere else I wanted to be,” I said, hugging my legs. “Mrs Macdonald knew where I was and she thought it was fine. And like I said, I was safe.”

“Thank heavens you weren’t with the Macdonalds,” Mum said. “I dread to think …”

“But I should have been,” I said. “I was supposed to be there. So I should have died, too.”

“It’s not your fault,” Dad said. “Don’t feel guilty. You were lucky, that’s all. Sometimes we all need a bit of luck in our lives.”

“But I was supposed to be there,” I said again. It seemed vital they understood how important that was.

“Maybe you shouldn’t be going back to school this term,” Mum said. “At least if you’re here we’ll know you’re all right.”

I froze. That would be awful. How was I supposed to get through something like this without Sirius? I’d already lost my best friend, I couldn’t lose him too, even if it was only for a couple of months. That would be worse than anything.

Fortunately Dad came to the rescue. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he said over my head. “Hogwarts is much safer than this house is. Everyone knows You-Know-Who’s scared of Dumbledore, he’d never dare attack the school.”

“I have to go back,” I said a little plaintively. “I have to finish. Mary would be horrified if I didn’t get my NEWTs because of her.”

“What about whoever you were staying with last night?” Mum asked. “Will they be at Hogwarts, too?”

Dad looked at her, clearly surprised. “What do you mean?”

“I still think this is about a boy,” Mum said, astonishing me that she was still worrying about that after everything that had happened. In any case, I had to put a stop to this idea before Dad thought about it too much.

I glared at her. “Really? You’re worrying about this _now_?” I asked. “My best friend has just died. _Died._ Can we deal with this another time?”

Mum looked somewhat abashed and held me even tighter. “Of course. This should be about Mary.”

It was like I had a hole in my chest. Just talking about it was a knife running through me. The very idea of Mary not being around anymore was so unfeasible I couldn’t really get my head around it. And Mum, while she could give a good hug, was a very poor imitation of Sirius. If I’d had a choice I would have wanted him there, holding me, rather than her. Somehow he was just that little bit more comforting.

Owls flew thick and fast around our house for the next couple of days as people exchanged condolences, and Lily even called me on the telephone to see how I was coping. The answer, of course, was badly. I could hardly convince myself that it was all true and not some horribly bad dream, and I was overwhelmed with guilt. Guilt for not spending as much time with Mary as I should have over the past several months, guilt for making her last days uncomfortable with having to lie to my father, guilt for simply being alive when she wasn’t. I should have been there. I was supposed to have been there. Therefore, I should have died too.

Mum and Dad, and to a lesser extent Bea, tried their hardest to make me feel better, but all their efforts just felt strained and, while I appreciated it, they didn’t really help. Probably the fact they were in shock as well contributed to how unreal it felt. I spent a lot of time alone in my room, casting hexes on myself in an attempt to feel _something_ , alternating between staring at old photos of Mary and me together, and hurling them across the room for reminding me she wasn’t around anymore. The only thing that helped keep me sane was Jessie, our cocker spaniel.

Right, so that’s probably not quite accurate. I did make a point of taking Jessie for her daily walk, choosing a nearby park that was fenced and therefore designed for dogs to run loose, off their leads, but I wasn’t alone when I did it. Halfway there I would be joined by another dog, huge, black, bear-like, and once we reached the park it would transform back into Sirius and he would sit with me, more often than not silently, just putting a comforting arm around me as we both tried to take in what had happened. It added some structure to my day, a reason to keep moving, as well as taking me to the one person who was really helping. Meanwhile, Jessie gambolled around carelessly, happily snapping at butterflies and stray leaves and sniffing other dogs. After all, her life wasn’t any different to how it had been the week before. She had everything she could ask for. She hadn’t lost Mary.

****

Mary’s funeral was held on Sunday morning, and the school had arranged for the Hogwarts Express to leave an hour later so students could attend. The event itself was in a funeral home just off Diagon Alley, which had been getting a lot of business over the past few years due to the war. That day was no exception – the Macdonalds’ funeral was just one of six being held that day.

The room was a sea of black as hundreds of people came to pay their respects. There were a number of Hogwarts students and also some teachers, Professor McGonagall noticeable due to the tartan cloak she wore over her black robes. Sebastian was near the front, looking like he didn’t know what to do with himself, his Ravenclaw friends forming a close barrier around him.

Not long after I arrived I saw Lily, her face red and blotchy, hurrying towards me. “Laura!” she cried, pulling me away from my family as she hugged me. “Isn’t it awful?”

I had trouble saying anything. I was barely even seeing her, to be honest. I was just a shell of my former self, struggling to take anything in, furious with myself for not being there when my best friend was killed.

“I should have been there,” I said, having told myself this fifty thousand times over the past few days. “I was supposed to be there.” Then I realised who I was talking to. “And you know, Lily, maybe I could have done something, you know? I mean, we’ve been learning all this stuff, maybe I could have saved her.”

Lily looked at me sternly. “This isn’t your fault, Laura. Never think this is your fault. If you’d been there, they would only have killed you too.”

“But she didn’t deserve to die. She never hurt a fly. She was Mary, you know?”

“No one deserves to die,” Lily said. She looked over my shoulder to my parents, a few yards away, and lowered her voice yet again. “They still don’t know about Sirius, do they?”

I shook my head, my eyes filling with tears again. This was breaking my heart. My best friend was lying in a coffin at the front of the room, and I couldn’t go near the one person who could have made me feel anywhere near human.

“It’s so unfair,” I said, hiccoughing as I tried not to cry again.

“Yes, it is,” she said. “The whole war’s unfair.”

I looked at her. “Does it ever make you think of going back and living as a Muggle?”

She shook her head and her eyes, while wet, were suddenly fierce. “No, it makes me want to fight. Stop them in their tracks. Make them suffer.”

_And there’s the Gryffindor courage_ , I thought. I wondered if I would feel the same way – that is, when I could feel anything again. At that moment I just felt numb.

“But aren’t you worried? About James? I mean, if they killed Andrew because of his girlfriend …”

“James can take care of himself,” she said, though I thought I could detect a note of concern in her voice.

“You’d better go to him,” I murmured. “I’ll stay here with Mum and Dad.”

“Are you sure?”

I nodded dumbly and, after looking doubtfully at me, she steered me back to my parents and took off to find James.

I already knew where James was, of course, because he was with Sirius. They were about twenty yards away, to my left and up a bit, and it took all my strength not to go straight to them and fall into Sirius’ arms, letting him kiss my tears away. Instead, though, I let Mum and Dad lead me to a pew near the front and sat down, my eyes fixed on the three coffins in front of me.

It was so hard to believe Mary really was in there.

_Mary shouldn’t be in there_ , I thought furiously. Mary should have been with me, making the sorts of comments only she could come up with. Mary should have been seeking out Sebastian for a quick snog. Mary should have had a future.

There was movement on the row behind us and I thought I could smell Sirius there. It was incredibly comforting, the thought that he was close by even if we couldn’t talk to each other, and I let one hand drop in between the backrest and the seat of my pew, just hanging there behind me. Almost immediately I felt someone take it and squeeze it. The knowledge he was trying to be there for me was almost enough to bring another tear to my eye – I hadn’t realised I could feel so much gratitude for such a small thing.

The service started, with a man I’d never seen before saying platitudes that I supposed were about Mary, Andrew and Mrs Mac. The thing was, of course, so many people were dying as a result of the war that you could say pretty much the same thing at any funeral and it would still be appropriate. I yearned, however, for someone to get up there and say something personal about them, because it might finally hammer home that this was indeed real.

Finally someone else stood up, someone I didn’t recognise but who was apparently Mary’s uncle, her mother’s brother. He didn’t have the Scottish accent I was longing to hear, but he did say some things that at least made me feel like he knew them, like he loved them, like he was hurting just as much or even more than I was. Eventually, however, even his words were lost, indecipherable against the background of sobbing, of sniffling, of the red eyes and tear-stained cheeks of just about everyone in the room.

“Be strong,” Mum said to me once the service was over and the three coffins had been taken to the crematorium. “Mary wouldn’t have wanted you to fall apart over this, not now when exams are so close.”

“How can you even think about exams?” I asked, somewhat hysterically. “Mary’s about to be burned to a crisp and you’re thinking about my NEWTs?” I took a breath, my voice getting louder and shriller. “We shouldn’t be talking about what Mary, or Andrew, or Mrs Mac, WOULD have wanted. They should be here to tell us themselves! They shouldn’t be in there! They never hurt anyone!”

“Calm down,” Mum said. “People are staring.”

“Let them,” I said. “If anything, I should be in there too! I was supposed to be there! But no, the one time I decide to do something for myself for a change, my best friend, who was covering for me, gets killed. This shouldn’t be happening,” I went on, getting onto a roll and unable to stop myself. “This needs to stop. What are the Aurors doing, or the Hit Wizards, if the Death Eaters can just swan up to someone’s house and kill them like that? What sort of world do we live in?”

Dad looked like he was trying to suppress a smile. “Still got that Welsh spirit, haven’t you?” he said fondly. “Look, there’s Alastor Moody from the Auror’s office. How about you go and tell him what he’s doing wrong? Who knows, you might be able to fix things.”

“I don’t want to _have_ to fix things,” I said, finally calming down a little, though my face was still wet. “I just want Mary back.”

****

The ride on the Hogwarts Express was, unsurprisingly, far more subdued than usual. Even those students who hadn’t known Mary were aware of what had happened, and no one seemed to feel much like talking and even less like joking around. Aside from people like Snape, Mulciber and Avery, of course, who we all knew aspired to join the Death Eaters and probably approved of it.

I sat in a corner of the compartment, not really talking, clutching at Sirius like my life depended on it. Thank Merlin I had him, I realised – if this had occurred a year or so earlier I would have been absolutely lost. Sirius, however, was able to make me calmer just by being there; as I had discovered at the funeral, something as simple as his touch could make all the difference.

The trouble was, of course, I couldn’t come to terms with the fact Mary wasn’t around anymore. Every time the compartment door opened I automatically looked up, half expecting to see her smiling face pop in to tell me the latest bit of gossip, or just to say hello. And every time I looked up, it was someone else, someone who wasn’t Mary. It didn’t even matter who it actually was, most of the time, it was who it wasn’t that hit me the hardest. I would never look up and see her poking her head around the compartment door again. I would never hear her laugh. I would never be able to tell her what a great friend she was.

I would never see her again.

Lily, James and Remus clearly didn’t want to do patrols for this particular train journey, but they didn’t have much choice. Fortunately those teachers who had attended the funeral were also on the train, so there was less chance of people acting up, but they still had to do it.

“It just feels wrong,” Lily said. “That we’re going about our business like nothing’s happened.”

I attempted a smile. “Mary would have hated people making too much of a fuss because of her. Maybe you can just go through the motions.”

Martha and Charlotte had joined us in the compartment, clutching each other tightly, their faces wet. After James, Lily and Remus came back from their rounds I noticed Remus holding Charlotte’s hand, and wondered if this tragedy might help bring them closer together. Mary would have liked that.

The journey, nonetheless, was the quietest I had ever experienced. It almost felt surreal, how silent the compartment was. No one really felt up to talking much, and if someone tried then invariably Mary’s name would crop up at some point, sending the girls at least into yet another flood of tears. Like me, I knew they kept looking for her whenever the door opened or anyone walked past, half expecting to see her. Like me, I knew they were having trouble dealing with the fact it would never happen.

The feast that night was also a sombre affair. Black drapes lined the walls and the silence from the House tables was almost overwhelming. Even the Slytherins, many of whom we suspected felt no grief whatsoever for the Macdonalds, seemed reluctant to make much noise.

“Tonight,” Professor Dumbledore said in his speech, “we are brought together by a tragedy. Last week one of our own, Mary Macdonald, was taken from us in the cruellest way. Mary’s death is a brutal and heartbreaking reminder that none of us are immune from the effects of this war, no matter how distanced we may sometimes feel from it. No longer can any of us honestly say we have not been affected.”

He paused again. “Mary Macdonald was a good student. She was loved and respected and was to have been sitting her NEWTs this coming June. She was a loyal member of Gryffindor House and a role model to younger students. She was the sort of girl who wasn’t disliked by anyone. She was even, though this should not matter, a pure-blood. Yet, still, despite all these things, Mary was still murdered by Lord Voldemort’s followers.”

There were a number of audible gasps in the room at the Headmaster’s use of Voldemort’s name, but I respected him for doing it. Hearing the name, somehow, made him seem more human, more defeatable, than saying ‘He who must not be named’.

“And what was her crime?” Professor Dumbledore asked after another pause. “What did she do that upset Voldemort so much? She agreed to be part of a wedding, a union between a pure-blood wizard and a Muggle-born witch. She agreed to do a favour for her brother. And, because of this, she died.” He paused, his eyes resting on the Gryffindor table. “No, this is not fair. It is not even logical. It is, however, the sort of thing that is all too common in this war.”

He looked around the room, his gaze resting on each House table individually. “You all know we are living in dark and dangerous times. Some of you have already experienced this first hand, with loved ones falling victim to the Death Eaters. Only a few days ago, this school lost a student.”

He paused again, looking around the room over his half-moon glasses, and nodding in the direction of Sebastian, who was sitting at the Ravenclaw table, an empty space next to him and his head in his hands. His shoulders were shaking and I was sure he was crying. “I would like to propose a toast,” Dumbledore said clearly, “in memory of one of our own, who learned the hard way that the family home is not always a safe place to be. Who had a bright future ahead of her and friends and family who loved her. Whose death must serve as an unwelcome reminder that, outside these walls, nowhere is truly safe. Who will be sorely missed.” He raised his goblet. “To Mary Macdonald.”

“To Mary Macdonald.” The words were muttered by some, said loudly by others, and ignored by many of the Slytherins. Through my tears I glared across the Great Hall at them.

“They don’t even care,” I said furiously. “They’re probably celebrating. How could they?”

“It was probably their parents that did it,” James said, his face dark.

Sirius gave me a squeeze. “Try not to think about it,” he said, though he was clearly angry as well and part of me wondered if he and James were already planning some kind of retaliation. “They’ll pay for it eventually.”

It was with trepidation that I eventually went up to the girls’ dorm, not really knowing what to expect. Would Mary’s bed be there, taunting us with its emptiness? Or would it have been taken away and the other beds moved over a bit, like she’d never existed? Fortunately Lily, Martha and Charlotte all shared my thoughts and we clasped hands as we made our way up the stairs, unsure of what would confront us.

Of course, our eyes were immediately drawn to the space Mary used to occupy. Her bed was gone, as were her things (most probably boxed and sent to the rest of the family, or what was left of them), but whoever had organised this had left the place the bed used to be empty. Our own beds hadn’t been moved to split the dorm into quarters instead of fifths, there was just this gap there, this stark reminder that what had once been a life full of promise was now no more.

Lily dropped my hand and began fussing in her trunk, eventually pulling out a photograph of the five of us. Wordlessly, she took it to the blank wall, where the Scottish flag once sat, and stuck it there with a Fixing Charm.

“This is now Mary’s wall,” she said, hiccoughing a little. “This is how we’re going to remember her, how we’re going to honour her just in this room.”

“Good idea,” said Martha. She too opened her trunk, soon resurfacing with a photo of Mary and herself. “Here’s my first contribution.”

Before long the wall was plastered with our remembrances of Mary: photographs, notes she’d written, a drawing she’d done of the golden eagle that had been her Patronus. I wrote a quick note to my parents asking them to pick up a Scottish flag somewhere, too – it didn’t feel like Mary’s wall without one. It was a poor imitation of the real thing, of course, but it was the best – and the least – we could do.

Charlotte, fumbling due to her tears, found a candle and placed it, alight, at the base of the display.

“We should see if we can get some Gubraithian Fire,” Lily said, her eyes on the flame. “You know, to make sure the candle doesn’t go out.” She paused. “I’ll ask Dumbledore.”

Martha was fishing around in the bottom of the wardrobe and eventually pulled out a bottle of Firewhisky and four goblets. “We’ll drink another toast,” she said sombrely, and we all filled our glasses and clinked them together, our faces wet.

Our voices came together as one, a little choked, a little shaky, but very determined. “To Mary.”


	52. Nothing to giggle about

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Mary's death starts to sink in across the school, things start getting back to how they used to be, to Laura's great annoyance.

The next morning, on the way down to breakfast, Lily and I confronted James and Sirius, a new resolve in our hearts. “These duelling lessons we’ve been having,” Lily began.

James looked at her. “What about them?”

“We need more of them,” I said. “The more the better.”

Lily nodded resolutely. “We want to learn to fight. Properly, not just this defence stuff you’re teaching us.”

The boys both stopped in their tracks. “You’re not fighting,” Sirius said, looking at me.

“No, Lily’s not either,” James added. “That was never the point of the lessons. You were just supposed to know how to defend yourselves.”

I glared at him. “So, with what happened to Mary, we’re supposed to just sit back and take that? Not raise a wand in retaliation? I’m sorry, but that’s not going to happen.”

Lily nodded again. “If we can help take down whoever did that to her, then that’s the least we can do.”

“You can’t do anything,” Sirius said. “You’re stuck here. Look, the Aurors will take care of whoever attacked Mary, they’ll be in Azkaban before you know it. All we can teach you is the small stuff, which might not even be much help in the real world.”

James was also looking worried. “Please don’t think you can go out and avenge Mary’s death. This is bigger than any of us, you’ll get in way over your heads. And we want you to be safe.”

“While you both go off fighting?” I asked. “That’s not fair. One in, all in.”

Sirius looked sadly at me, and when he spoke his voice was quiet. “Fighting isn’t going to bring her back, you know.”

I faltered: until he’d said it out loud, I hadn’t realised that was exactly what I’d been hoping for. Unconsciously, unrealistically, I had thought that doing something practical like that would in some way reverse what had happened. It was a purely emotional reaction but it was also a false hope, and the finality of that realisation was almost more than I could bear. Fortunately Sirius somehow realised this – he was incredibly good at reading me these days – and wrapped both arms around me as I tried to fight my tears.

“Can we talk about this later?” James was asking. “Fine, we’ll try to book in more lessons, but please don’t go out seeking a fight, okay?”

Lily looked at me and paused. “We make no promises. We still want to learn. But we’ll consider it.”

The truth was that this close encounter with the war meant everything seemed so much more immediate. Little things that had interested us before like who was dating who or how someone had done her hair were now only minor distractions, completely irrelevant when compared with what really counted – winning the war. Mary’s death must not have been in vain. Her fate, awful as it had been, was spurring us on to make sure the bigger picture was addressed. Voldemort must be defeated. There was no other option.

We weren’t the only ones to feel this way, either. The first Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson that term was much more intense than usual, with not only the Gryffindors but also all the Hufflepuffs we shared the class with working extra hard.

“It’s fantastic to see you all applying yourselves so hard to this,” Professor Perkins said at the end of the class. “I just wish you would have taken it so seriously before this tragedy. I’ve been seeing a steady improvement from only four of you this year - ” she nodded at Sirius, James, Lily and me – “but I hope this newfound enthusiasm for the subject will last long enough for you to get a good lead-in to your NEWTs. Awful as the events of the holidays were, maybe some good can yet come out of them.”

Charlotte was fuming as we left the classroom. “That was a bit insensitive, don’t you think?” she asked, her eyes wet behind her glasses. “Wanting to put Mary dying to good use?”

“Her timing could have been better,” I said, “but I can see her point. Mary would have hated it if we’d all failed because of her. She’d probably like us to use it as motivation. She liked to feel useful.” My eyes teared up again and Sirius gave my hand a squeeze. “I do miss her.”

“We all miss her,” Lily said. “I dare say we always will.”

****

Later that week I found myself walking alongside Bernie Carmichael as I headed from Ancient Runes to the Great Hall for lunch. “How are you going?” he asked quietly.

“Coping,” I said. “Just.”

He seemed to know exactly what I meant and nodded. “Seb’s having a really hard time of it,” he said. “He’s not doing well at all.”

“I’d figured as much.” I’d noticed Sebastian looking rather haunted as he made his way around the castle to lessons. “Though, it’s not something anyone should have to deal with, is it?”

“Is it true you were supposed to be there?” he asked, his voice still quiet.

I nodded. “Yep. And I should have died too.”

“Don’t say that,” he said, grabbing my hand and giving it a comforting squeeze. “Losing Mary was a big enough blow without you being killed as well.”

I looked at him, my eyes filling with tears as we went through the doors to the Great Hall. “It’s just … it’s so completely unfair. Mary never hurt anyone. She should never have been hurt.”

He squeezed my hand again, but dropped it very quickly when he noticed Sirius moving quickly towards us, his eyes flashing. “Carmichael …”

“Don’t worry, we were just talking about Mary,” Bernie said, moving away from me.

“Well, don’t,” Sirius said, standing between us and pulling me towards him. “She’s having enough trouble coping with it without having other people bring it up all the time.”

“It’s okay,” I said. “Sebastian’s having trouble, too, Bernie was just worried about me.”

Bernie by now had gone to the Ravenclaw table, plainly seeing he wasn’t wanted, and Sirius walked me to the place he’d saved for me with the Gryffindors, his arm still protectively around me. “He shouldn’t be holding your hand like that.”

“He was only trying to comfort me. There was nothing in it. You know that.”

“I don’t like him talking to you all the time,” he said. “He still fancies you. He might try something.”

“He won’t. If anything, I won’t let him. Okay?”

He seemed only mildly appeased, sending a Bat-Bogey Hex across the room at Bernie, and was still in a rather dark mood when we did our duelling lesson that afternoon. For the first time, I was pleased that Lily had to partner him instead of me, as she was the one who had to deal with his temper. To her credit, she used it to her advantage and spent a lot of time honing her reaction times as he pelted her with different jinxes.

“Now, about you two fighting,” James said to Lily and me as we took a break halfway through the lesson, our Revulsion Jinxes now almost as good as the boys’ were. “We’ve decided that we’ll teach you some offensive spells, but that doesn’t mean we want you to use them unless it’s _absolutely_ necessary.”

“And why wouldn’t we?” Lily said. “We’ve made up our minds on this. We want to fight.”

“You might change your minds once you see what it’s really like out there,” James said. “Look, it’s really nasty. Dad used to tell stories from when he was in the Ministry, and that was before this war got to the extent it has.”

“And with people like Cousin Bella on the other side, it’s not going to get any nicer,” Sirius said, his mood only mildly improved. “I know what she’s capable of. I don’t think the woman actually has a heart.”

“But she got caught,” I said, confused. “Didn’t Dumbledore give them to the Hit Wizards after Slughorn’s party last term?”

James looked surprised. “Didn’t you hear? They escaped last week. Imperiused their guards when they were being moved prior to the trial. One of them must have had a spare wand or something tucked away they hadn’t found when they searched them. It was in the _Prophet_.”

Sirius reached over and grabbed my hand. “On the weekend,” he said, looking at James. “Laura had other things on her mind then. We all did.”

“Of course,” James said, a little subdued. “But the thing is, out there, against Death Eaters, if you make one false move you’re dead. It’s as simple as that.” He paused, looking at Lily and me. “And you wonder why we don’t want you out in that?”

“But you’re going to fight,” I said again. “How do you think we like that?”

Lily nodded. “Like Laura said the other day, one in, all in. If you’re fighting, we want to be right there with you.”

Sirius and James looked helplessly at one another. “And like James just said, maybe you’ll change your minds once we get out of here,” Sirius said. “We’re nice and insulated from it all at Hogwarts, everyone knows Voldemort’s scared of Dumbledore so we’re about as safe here as anyone can be right now. But out there … well, it’s a completely different story. Just bear that in mind, okay?”

Lily set her jaw stubbornly. “We want to fight,” she repeated. “And we’re not learning anything sitting here talking. How about we get back into it now?”

I nodded, looking at James as I got to my feet. “Now, these offensive spells you mentioned …”

****

After supper, Lily disappeared for a little while without James, which raised a few eyebrows. We were so used to them being together all the time that something like this was most unusual. However, all was explained when she came back into the common room, a flaming red candle in her hand. “Come upstairs,” she told me, Martha and Charlotte. “I’ve got it.”

“Got what?” Martha asked as we dutifully followed her to the dorm.

“The fire,” she said, opening the door with her spare hand. “Dumbledore found some Gubraithian Fire for us, so we’ve got an everlasting candle now.” She put the red candle down on the floor by Mary’s wall, where it dwarfed the original one Charlotte had found. “I tried to Charm the candle so it had the Macdonald tartan, but unfortunately the charm didn’t work with the everlasting flame, and I thought that was more important. Mary would have understood.”

We all looked at the flame, which was somewhat larger than that you would normally see on a candle, and cast long shadows on the wall behind it. On the wall itself, images moved of their own accord, different shots of Mary smiling, Mary laughing, Mary trying in vain to ride a broom, Mary cheering at a Quidditch game, Mary giving me a comforting hug.

“We’re like the fire, aren’t we?” I said suddenly. They all turned quizzical faces to me. “We’re not going to go out,” I said, trying to explain myself and this sudden epiphany I’d had that I wasn’t sure I even understood properly. “This friendship. No matter what happens, we’ll always be friends, won’t we?”

They didn’t answer immediately, plainly thinking this over. “I think you’re right,” Charlotte said after a spell. “This has brought us closer together, hasn’t it? It’s like a weird kind of bond.”

Martha nodded. “Yeah, I think so too.” She looked at Mary’s wall, her expression intense, before turning back to us. “Another toast, do you think?”

Lily nodded. “It’s needed, I think.”

Once our goblets were all full again, once more we clinked them and raised them to the wall of photographs.

“To Mary.”

****

Of course, not everyone had the same reaction to Mary’s death as we’d had. A lot of our fellow students hadn’t known her very well (or, in the case of those in younger years, at all) and so couldn’t have been expected to mourn for extended periods, and after a couple of weeks of rather sombre behaviour things eventually started getting back to normal. Unfortunately, that also meant the fan club started getting back into the swing of things, and I had to cope with minor annoyances such as ink being spilled on my essays, or my things being Transfigured when I wasn’t paying attention. Eventually, as Remus and I made our way towards Ancient Runes, this culminated in Elvira swallowing her pride and actually talking to me.

“Laura!” she called, making me stop in my tracks, and ignoring Remus entirely. Why she did that I couldn’t understand – as one of Sirius’ best friends, surely he would be just as good a source of information as I was?

“Elvira,” I said, unable to contain my surprise. “How’s tricks?” Remus stopped as well, most probably wondering what would happen here.

As usual she skipped the preliminaries. “I heard you went to Sirius’ place over Easter,” she said without breaking step. We hurried to catch up with her.

I smiled wryly – news certainly did travel fast at Hogwarts. I hadn’t even told anyone except the girls in my dorm, and that had only been to explain my guilt at not being at the Macdonalds’ that fateful night. “Yes, Elvira, I did. It stopped me getting killed, actually,” I said pointedly. “What about it?”

“So it’s true, then. He’s got his own place now.”

I smiled despite myself. “He’s had his own place since July. Wherever you’re getting your information from is a bit behind.”

She just scowled at me. “So? Where is it? What’s it like?”

I groaned inwardly. Really? After everything that had happened, she was worrying about something as trivial as _this_? She must have been shallower than I’d previously given her credit for. “It’s a twelve-bedroom mansion with two house elves, overlooking Hyde Park,” I invented. “He lets homeless people stay in it while he’s at school.” Out of the corner of my eye I could see Remus trying to suppress a grin.

She stopped walking in surprise. “Really?”

I raised my eyebrows. “What do you think?”

“Fine,” she said, glaring at me. “Don’t tell me. But don’t think I won’t find out another way!”

I smiled, unable to think of a single person who might have been to Sirius’ flat who was even the remotest chance of telling Elvira about it. “Then find out another way. Frankly, with everything that’s happened lately, that’s the least of my concerns.”

“I still can’t believe you got your hands on him,” she muttered, fingering her wand threateningly. “It’s been months and he’s not bored yet or anything. You must be such a good shag.”

She had such a lovely way with words sometimes. I raised my eyebrows and hoped I didn’t look as uncomfortable as I felt. “Well, why don’t you ask him?”

She glared at me, her wand still out. “Yeah, right, ’cause he’d definitely tell me. But that’s the only thing that would be keeping him so long. Next thing we know he’ll even be giving you wand access to his place.”

I stayed silent as we reached the classroom and filed in, heading for our usual desks and me putting a hand to my face to try to work out if she had in fact jinxed me. Finding no evidence, I asked Remus. “Did she get me?”

He looked me over critically. “Doesn’t look like it. Not that I can see, anyway. It might be slow-acting, though, you never know with her.” We had reached our desk and he looked at me out of the corner of his eye as we sat down and pulled out quills, ink and parchment. “He’s already given you wand access, hasn’t he?”

I looked at him, surprised. “How did you know?”

“Call it a lucky guess.” He smiled. “From what I know of Padfoot and from the look on your face when she mentioned it. It wasn’t hard to put two and two together. Did he give you a reason for it? Somewhere to crash, anything like that?”

I nodded, wondering what he meant. “He said to use it as a safe house if I needed to.”

Remus looked like he was trying not to laugh. “Of course he did. That’s so much like him. But don’t let it fool you, it was just an excuse. He just wanted you to have access.”

“But I’ve been thinking about that,” I said. “Would it really be safe? I mean, if it’s known he lives there, it might be targeted itself, mightn’t it? Blood traitor and all that?”

Remus shook his head. “I doubt they’d be able to find it. Sirius, no matter how much he hates his parents, still learned a few things from them. His family home had every enchantment known to wizardkind on it to keep it hidden from everyone who wasn’t actually invited in, and I would imagine his flat is the same.”

“Oh.” I hadn’t thought of that. “So I had no problems because I was with him?”

He nodded. “To an extent. Any of us would be able to find it because we’re welcome guests and you can teach doors to recognise people. But, well, I don’t think any of us have wand access other than James. And you, of course.”

“I was surprised when he did it,” I said, not really sure what to make of that. “But it makes more sense now, and I’m certainly not complaining. It’s nice to have a base in London.” _Or, more particularly_ , I thought, _it’s nice to have a base where Sirius is_.

“Especially when it’s a twelve-bedroom mansion overlooking Hyde Park,” he said with a chuckle.

I sighed. “It seems such a long time ago, now, though, if you know what I mean. It’s like years have passed since then. I’m surprised Elvira’s even thinking about it.”

Remus smiled grimly. “The more things change, the more they stay the same. I think that’s just the way she is, Laura. And, no matter how ridiculous you think that is, you’re going to have to get used to it again.” And he looked away from me and focused on the front of the classroom, where Professor Babbling was preparing to begin the lesson.

****

Remus, as usual, had been uncommonly perceptive, and it wasn’t just Bernie dragging me into an empty classroom to tell me Elvira and Dione had something big coming up that proved this to me. It was only a couple of days later that I reached into my bag at the lunch table, looking for a quill to write myself a reminder to write home when I got a chance, when I realised something had spilled inside the bag, soaking everything in its reach. “Uh oh,” I muttered, “looks like I’ve broken an ink bottle. Oh, no, it’s not ink. Ow.”

Sirius looked at me, clearly concerned. “What is it?”

I pulled out my hand and looked at it – blisters were forming and my eyes watered in pain. Something that smelled suspiciously like petrol flooded the air. “Bubotuber pus,” I said weakly – this hurt just as much as my broken arm had before the holidays. “Undiluted Bubotuber pus.”

“It was in your bag?” James looked surprised. “How’d Bubotuber pus get in your bag?”

“You need to ask?” Lily said scornfully. “Look at the Ravenclaw table, that should tell you.”

I didn’t need to look to know who was behind this. Bernie had been warning me continuously for the past couple of weeks, after all. Thinking back, I could remember Elvira brushing past me as I left Ancient Runes in the last lesson before lunch – she must have dropped the pus in my bag then, without me noticing. In any case I knew that lunch could wait: I needed to get to the hospital wing so Madam Pomfrey could fix this.

Sirius, who seemed to be able to read my mind at times, had already risen from his seat and grabbed my arm, above the hand, ready to take me upstairs.

As always Madam Pomfrey was quick and precise, but unfortunately there was no fast remedy for Bubotuber pus and I had to be content with my hand being bandaged to the wrist, to stop anything aggravating the blisters. This meant my wand hand was now useless.

“Good thing it’s Friday,” I muttered to Sirius as we went back downstairs. “No more classes.” I grinned suddenly. “Do you think James will let me off this afternoon’s duelling lesson?”

He laughed. “Well, considering you can’t hold your wand, I would expect so.”

“Not that I want to,” I said thoughtfully. “Get out of the lesson, I mean. Not really. If I’m going to make a difference in this war I have to be able to fight properly.”

Sirius frowned. “You’re not to fight if you don’t _have_ to. We’ve been over this before. I don’t want what happened to Mary, happening to you.”

“Mary _died_ ,” I said. “We have to make it right somehow.” I looked at my bandaged hand ruefully. “Though, I will have to be able to hold a wand to do that, won’t I.” Looking up at his somewhat alarmed face, I smiled suddenly. “And you’ll have to feed me my lunch,” I went on, wondering how long I could pull this off for. “I expect to be waited on hand and foot from now on.”

“Certainly, Your Highness,” he grinned; he seemed to have relaxed a little now I wasn’t talking about fighting anymore. “And will Madam need help undressing this evening as well? I’m sure I can assist with that, too.”

“Nice try,” I said, failing to suppress a giggle. “I think I can do that one myself. Just lunch, if you don’t mind.”

He looked disappointed. “If you’re sure,” he said as we walked into the Great Hall again. “Though if you change your mind, remember I’d be happy to volunteer.”

“Yes, sir,” I said, smiling as we sat back down at the Gryffindor table and got stuck into what was left of lunch. “Like I could forget.”

****

My hand remained bandaged for most of the weekend, and pretty much as soon as Madam Pomfrey took the bandages off on Sunday afternoon and declared me cured, I made my way upstairs to the Ravenclaw common room and went in. I found Elvira in a comfortable armchair by the window, walked straight up to her and gave my wand a flick. “That’s for the Bubotuber pus, and for tampering with my broom,” I said, watching with satisfaction as cow horns sprung from her head, and a bell appeared around her neck. I couldn’t see the tail, but I was assuming it was there. “I’m warning you, Elvira, don’t try any funny business with me, okay? Because this is positively affectionate compared to what I _could_ do to you.”

She stared at me. “Is this supposed to be some sort of joke?”

I smiled sweetly. “I don’t think so. Though, the spell didn’t quite have the effect I wanted. I was going to turn you into a cow, but, then again, you’re one already, aren’t you?”

“You made me like this,” she hissed, her eyes flashing. “If you’d just stayed away from him …”

“What? Kept him free for you? Yeah, because that’s worked so well for you over the past five years. He won’t go anywhere near you, and you know it. And in the greater scheme of things, this is honestly what’s important to you? People are dying and you’re worried about the love life of a boy who never even looks at you?” She flinched, and I knew my words had hit the mark as I went on. “Of course, it’s not exactly mature, taking it out on me like this, and if you keep going then I’ll tell McGonagall who was responsible for jinxing my broom. I’m sure she’d be very interested in that information.”

“You can’t prove anything,” she said.

“Really?” I asked. “So, if Dumbledore is interested enough in this case to get out the Veritaserum, you won’t incriminate yourself? I have to say, Elvira, that’s news to me.”

“And if you try anything behind her back,” said a voice behind me, “you’ll have us to deal with.”

I turned around to see Bernie and Sebastian looking absolute daggers at Elvira, and she actually paled a little when she saw them.

“You might want to watch your step,” Sebastian said. “You’ve done enough damage for a lifetime. Give it a rest.”

“You’re losing friends, Elvira,” I said. “Lay off. Like I said, I’m sure Professor McGonagall would be _very_ interested to learn what you’ve been up to.” And, smiling gratefully at Sebastian and Bernie, I turned and made a dramatic exit from the room.

“It was hilarious,” Bernie told me before supper that night. He had pulled me aside as I approached the Great Hall, looking apologetically at Sirius for taking me away from him. “She didn’t know what to do with herself. And then Greta took her down to the hospital wing but Madam Pomfrey’s had awful trouble undoing the spell. That was a good one.”

“It was one of Bea’s,” I said. “I don’t know that she used it much at school though so Madam Pomfrey may not remember how to undo it. Not that I’m offering to go tell her.”

“Well, this might go down in legend,” he said, beaming at me. “You did well.”

As we went into the hall I spotted Elvira at the Ravenclaw table, the cow horns the Matron had been unable to remove poking out from underneath a scarf she was wearing to try to hide them. It appeared, however, that Madam Pomfrey had in fact managed to remove her bell.

Sirius was glaring in Bernie’s direction as I sat down. “What did _he_ want?”

“Just to congratulate me,” I said. “Apparently Madam Pomfrey tried all sorts of things but she couldn’t get rid of the cow horns or the tail. The other Ravenclaws are finding it very entertaining.”

He looked only slightly placated. “Was that one of your sister’s? I don’t remember it. Did you teach it to us?”

I shrugged. “I’m not sure, to be honest. It was a while back and my memory isn’t what it used to be. I’m getting old, you see.”

“Yes, eighteen really is the stepping stone to old age,” James grinned. “I don’t know how you senior citizens manage to keep up with young bucks like me. Look at Pete, he’s going grey already.”

Peter blushed. “Only because of all the stress you put me through,” he said with an attempt at a smile. Not that we could really tell, I thought, Peter’s hair was that colourless sort that meant even if he was going grey, it would have just blended in. “I’ve aged significantly since I met you lot.”

Sirius laughed. “I would hope so. You were eleven then.”

“See, his memory’s going too, he can’t even remember when we met,” James said, smiling broadly. “Been eighteen for three whole months now. No wonder he’s losing it.”

I laughed. “Didn’t you turn eighteen over the holidays?”

He blushed, his face now matching Peter’s. “Damn. You do remember that.” He grinned suddenly. “Though I’m still the youngest, you can’t deny that.”

“No, Mary’s the – yeah, okay, you are.” I had to correct myself mid-sentence: these days, James was indeed the youngest of our group. Mary would never reach eighteen.

“Yep, you should be able to tell just from looking at me,” James said, plainly trying to lighten the mood again. The times when Mary came up in conversation accidentally like this were getting less awkward, though there was still an air of gloom that accompanied them, and Sirius put his arm around me and gave me a bit of a squeeze, possibly noticing I had once again become a little teary. “Those extra months really count,” James went on. “No wrinkles around the eyes, no grey hairs …”

“And no cow horns,” Lily said, also trying to lighten things up a bit. “Unlike Elvira. Though I must say it suits her.”

“It was too easy,” I said, allowing myself to get caught up in the conversation again. “She was that much of a cow anyway, this just added some finishing touches.”

James grinned. “You know, Laura, I’m starting to wonder if Padfoot isn’t a bad influence on you. You were never this aggressive before, were you?”

“Of course I was,” I said. “You just didn’t know me as well. And admittedly, I didn’t get quite this much opportunity because I was never really anyone’s target before. If anything, they’d steer clear of me because of Bea.”

“I told you she was a wild one,” Sirius said. “Just because she never turned her wand on us doesn’t mean she didn’t do it to anyone else.”

“Particularly Slytherins,” Lily said, smiling reminiscently. “Scylla Pritchard did look better with a banana instead of a nose. It really suited her.”

I giggled. “I’d forgotten about that one. But yeah, it did suit her, didn’t it?” I turned to look at the Ravenclaw table. “Hopefully, though, Elvira will back off a bit now. I’m getting a bit sick of it. I mean, in comparison with what we should be focusing our attention on, it just seems so trivial.”

“I guess at least she knows you mean business now,” James said. “Now it’s just a case of wait and see. She’ll either back off entirely, or up the ante even more.”

“Brilliant,” I muttered. “Just what I want. This thing to be escalated above what it already is. Just for once, I’d really like to be able to give at least some attention to my NEWTs, you know?”

“Cheer up,” Peter said. “It might go the other way.”

I smiled suddenly. “You said it, Peter. Fingers crossed.”


	53. Laura Cauldwell, amateur counsellor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laura finds herself in charge of cheering both Remus and Sirius up, as luck would have it, on the same day. Oh, and Filch has a rather major coup – if he only realises it.

After supper I went upstairs to the dorm to get the books I’d need for my homework that night. As always, my eyes flicked to Mary’s wall when I went inside – it was full now, covered from floor to ceiling with memories of her, all illuminated by the Gubraithian flame Lily had managed to talk Dumbledore into giving us.

The gaping hole where her bed used to sit was an apt metaphor for the hole inside of me which her death had left. I still found myself looking for her in classes and when I woke up in the morning, or listening for her distinctive voice and laughter in the Great Hall or the common room. The only thing that really helped, aside from Sirius, was the duelling lessons he and James were still giving us, three times a week now.

Charlotte noticed me pause. “Are you okay?”

I started, having not realised she was in the room with me. “Yeah, I think so,” I said, thinking about it. “I’m trying to get used to her not being here. It’s just … it’s just hard, you know?”

She nodded, getting up from her bed to give me a hug. “We all miss her.”

“Well, once I learn how to fight properly, Merlin help whoever did it.”

She looked at me, concerned. “You’re not going to go looking for them, are you? I don’t know, Laura, taking on a Death Eater …”

I giggled a little despite myself. “You’re sounding like Sirius. But no, I’m not going to seek them out. I just feel like if I can fight, then that will make me feel less … responsible, I guess. Being here, we’re helpless, we’re stranded. Out there, I can do something about it.”

“I get that,” she said, “but still, please don’t go out looking for revenge. We’ve already lost Mary. We don’t want to lose you too.”

I smiled grimly. “Well, I’m not planning on it, if that’s any consolation.” Pausing, I looked at her and decided to ask what I was thinking. “Hey, what’s going on with you and Remus? Has anything happened since the train ride?”

She sat back down on her bed, looking frustrated. “Why are you asking me? How would I know what’s going on?”

Things were worse than I’d realised, if someone as easy-going as Charlotte was reacting that way. I sat down next to her. “He hasn’t run away again, has he?”

She nodded. “I’ve got no idea any more, Laura, absolutely none. Sometimes I think he fancies me, but sometimes it’s like he can’t stand to be around me. It’s driving me batty.”

“Much as I hate to say it, it does sound like him. Tell you what, how about I have a word to him?”

She looked glum. “It won’t make any difference. But do what you like. I guess it can’t get any worse, can it?”

By the time morning came around, I was re-assessing my offer. I was having enough trouble coming to terms with my own issues without helping other people through theirs – only as the month closed was I starting to get used to the fact Mary was no longer around. Sirius could fill some of the void, of course, and knowing he loved me and intended to always be there for me was unbelievably reassuring, but I had a feeling that no one would ever completely take her place. Some holes, I realised, can never truly be filled.

However, no matter how much I missed Mary, the truth was that the living had problems of their own and I might be able to help them in some little way. And, having made the offer in the first place, I really didn’t want to let Charlotte down. So I took a deep breath and approached Remus in the common room after Sirius had taken off for Muggle Studies. He was sitting alone by the fire, steadfastly ignoring Charlotte, who was at the table by the window. I sat down and jerked my head in her direction. “Why don’t you give her a chance?” I asked quietly, having _Muffliato_ ’d the nearest groups of students. “You’re pining for each other.”

He shook his head. “Laura, you know why,” he said, clearly surprised but keeping his voice low. “She deserves someone whole and undamaged. I can’t inflict myself on her.”

“But you’re only dangerous one night out of twenty-eight. And I really don’t think she’d mind. Charlotte’s a good person, she’ll look past that. She’s just about in love with you already.”

“But it’s not just about Charlotte,” he said. “I’m not exactly a preferred dinner guest: people stay well away once they find out. Not everyone is like you. And I don’t want to get between her and her family. Can you honestly imagine the Trimbles welcoming a werewolf to their table? You’ve read what her uncle wrote in his book. If they reject me, she’ll take it personally, and then they’ll probably reject her as well. I don’t want to be responsible for that.”

I thought about that, and how my parents might react if I announced my boyfriend was a werewolf. And, I had to admit, he had a point. But that wasn’t fair, it wasn’t his fault he’d been bitten, and he shouldn’t have to be ostracised because of something he couldn’t do anything about.

“You could try them,” I said. “You never know, they might accept you. Once they realise what a great person you are, they should be able to get past it.”

He smiled weakly. “Thanks. But forgive me if I’m not as optimistic as you are. Besides, I’m not much of a catch. I’ll probably be unemployable once I leave here – who’d want to hire me? Having sick days all the time and potentially dangerous, not to mention the prejudice most people have. I can’t ask her to put up with that, to support me. It’s not fair on her.”

“I hadn’t really thought about that,” I said. “You having trouble getting a job. Is it really that hard?”

He nodded gravely. “Like I said, most people have a prejudice against werewolves. And I can understand that, we’re not exactly safe to be around if you catch us at the wrong time. You heard what Viridian said last year, you read the book. Well, that’s exactly what it’s like. I could have written the thing myself.”

I took his hand. “You can go home to your dad, though, right?”

He shook his head. “He’d take me, but I’d just be a burden to him. He can barely afford to look after himself these days, let alone support me as well. No, he’s better off without me.”

I looked at him. “Are you even giving him that choice?”

“I can’t,” he said stubbornly. “Because of course he’d say, come home. He’s my dad, what else would he do? But it’s not fair on him if I do.”

I rolled my eyes a little. The overwhelming sense of honour the boys seemed to share was only putting up roadblocks in this case, as far as I could tell. “But what will you do?” I asked, a little frustrated at the idea of Remus homeless and starving, unable to find work yet too proud to ask for help from someone who loved him.

“James has offered to look after me,” he said, almost bitterly. I wasn’t used to hearing that tone in Remus’ voice and it surprised and saddened me. “It’s not ideal but it means I have a fall back if the employment thing doesn’t work, and at least he can afford it. Though I understand now how Padfoot felt. You need to sacrifice a certain amount of pride and personal dignity if you’re going to let someone else support you.”

I followed his gaze to Charlotte, who saw us looking and made a point of going back to her study. Next to me, Remus let out an almost imperceptible sigh.

“At the very least,” I said, “you could tell her why you’ve been so hesitant.” He threw me a sharp look before returning his gaze to the other table. “Look, school’s nearly over, there’s only a couple of months to go. You may never see her again after June, and what happened to Mary is proof enough we might not have much time. Don’t you think she’s entitled to know why she’s been rejected? She probably already thinks no one will ever love her.”

“Of course someone will love her.” He tore his eyes from Charlotte and looked at me. “I can see your point. But it’s not as easy as that.”

“Why not? She read that book. She was really cut up by it, to tell you the truth. She’ll understand.”

He watched her again for a little while and then turned a tortured face to me. “Can you tell her?”

I shook my head. “It has to come from you.”

“I’ll think about it,” he muttered, looking at his knees. “I don’t know whether I should be thanking you or not.”

I smiled at him, even though he was still refusing to look up. “That’s fine,” I said. “Once you’ve told her, then you can thank me.”

****

Frankly I felt like a stiff drink after that little counselling session, but life had other plans for me. It seemed that day I was needed to sort out all sorts of personal problems, and generally not my own. Not long after class finished for the day an owl arrived for Sirius, from his mother of all people, and after reading it he fell into a bit of a funk.

“This does happen occasionally,” James said quietly as Sirius hurled the letter into the fire and stormed out of the common room. “They tell him he’s useless and has brought shame on the family name. You might want to go and see if you can reverse the damage.”

I looked at him in surprise. “But he doesn’t believe that, does he?”

“He tries not to, but some of it does hit home. It’s not nice, having the person who gave you life saying she wishes she didn’t.”

I was quiet for a bit. “I hadn’t thought of it that way. I’ll go see what I can do, shall I?”

James looked relieved. “If anyone can bring him back, it’d be you.”

The extremely useful Marauder’s map in my hand, I soon found Sirius in the passage behind the mirror on the fourth floor. “Don’t take it to heart,” I said, sitting down next to him and putting an arm around him. “They don’t even know you anymore.”

“But they do,” he muttered. “It’s all true. I am a useless piece of crap who’s not worth wasting any time over.”

“No you’re not. They’re the ones who should be ashamed, rabbiting on about that blood purity rubbish and judging people based on who their parents are. You know as well as I do how stupid that is. You should be proud of yourself, the way you got out.”

He threw me a look. “Yeah, jumping headfirst into homelessness and poverty and having to live off charity. That was really heroic of me.”

“But that didn’t last,” I said. “You’re not homeless or poor now and you’re not living off charity. And that’s due to someone else in your family, your mother’s own brother no less, also realising what a great person you are and figuring you were worth paying some attention to.”

“But he only did that after he died,” Sirius said pointedly. “He didn’t bother when he was still alive.”

“It still counts. He didn’t _have_ to leave you that gold. He did it because he thought you were worthwhile.”

He was quiet for a bit. “Why are you bothering with me anyway, Laura?” he asked suddenly. “You could do so much better than me. Why don’t you find someone who’s actually worthy of you?”

Where did that come from? Him not worthy of me? Picking my jaw up from where it had dropped, I grabbed his hand and kissed it, not missing the irony it was now _me_ comforting _him_ about this relationship. The tables really had turned. “Don’t say that. No one’s more worthy of me than you are.”

He looked at the floor, the light from our wands casting odd shadows on his face. “You’re way too good for me. You should be with someone who deserves you, there are so many blokes here who would kill for you and they’re so much better than I am. Every day I thank my lucky stars you haven’t realised that yet.” He paused. “Though me saying that now probably hasn’t helped my cause much.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked, hoping this was just symptomatic of his general mood and would soon pass. “I’m not too good for you. No way.”

“Of course you are. I’m nothing. Just a flashy combination of showing off and talking myself up so no one knows what I’m really like.”

“Actually,” I said, “you’re not like that at all. You’re smart, and you’re kind, and you’re funny, and you’re incredibly attractive.”

He looked at the floor again. “Don’t lie. I’d rather you just told the truth.”

I gave him a squeeze. “This is the truth. Why would I want to be with anyone else?” He didn’t look convinced. “Look, if I thought I’d be happier with someone else, if I thought they were better than you, then why would I be wasting my time here with you right now? I’m here because this is where I want to be. But if you don’t want to believe that then nothing I say will convince you.”

He looked at me again, his face looking more vulnerable than I had ever seen it. “I want to believe it,” he said. “I really do. But I don’t deserve someone as great as you.”

“Too bad,” I said. “That’s my choice, and I’ll have to live with it. Because I’m not giving up on you now.”

“You’re making a big mistake,” he said, but his voice wasn’t quite so despondent now. “You’ll regret it.”

I decided to change tack. “Right. Sirius, do you think I’m dumb?”

He looked shocked. “No, of course not. You’re smarter than I am in a lot of ways.”

“Right, then, do you value my judgement?”

“Yes, of course I do. Probably more than my own.”

I smiled. “Then if I’m not dumb and I can make reasonable decisions, why on earth would I still be with you if you were as bad as you’re making out?”

He was quiet for a while. “I guess,” he said eventually. “Though I still think you’ll regret it.”

“Then I’ll deal with that when the time comes,” I said, giving him another squeeze and kissing him lightly on the cheek.

“You mean it?” he asked. “You’ll stick with me, even if I’m not worth it?”

“Always,” I promised. “That’s what ‘I love you’ means.” I paused. “And guess what? I still love you. Even when you’re being an idiot, like you are now.”

He smiled suddenly. “I am a bit of an idiot, aren’t I? Thanks, Laura. I do feel better.”

****

Once Sirius was back to normal, things went on much the same as usual for the next week or so, until Professor McGonagall called me back after Transfiguration one day. “A word, please, Miss Cauldwell,” she said as we packed our things into our bags, ready to head to Charms.

“What is it, Professor?” I asked, signalling to Sirius to go on without me.

She gave me the ghost of a smile. “It’s about your broom. Professors Flitwick and Perkins have looked it over and tested it for known jinxes, and it was found to carry both a Hurling Hex and a Confundus Charm.” She looked concerned. “It is highly unlikely that a student would have the skills to perform such charms on a broom without it reacting badly. Can you please describe again what happened that day?”

I thought back. “It seemed okay when I first got on, but once I got a bit of speed up it started, well, misbehaving.” I paused. “Are you sure a student couldn’t have done this?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Do you have anyone particular in mind, Miss Cauldwell?”

I hesitated. “There are a couple of people here who don’t like me very much,” I said finally. “Students, that is. Smart people, too. I had thought it was them.”

“And are you prepared to name these people?”

I looked at her. “What would happen if I did?”

“Well,” she said, folding her hands on the desk, “if they were proven to be the culprits, there would certainly be some significant punishment involved, though its exact nature would of course depend on the guilty parties’ Head of House. This is a very serious charge, as I’m sure you are aware, considering what could have happened if you’d fallen from a great height.” She paused. “I suppose the question is whether you want this followed up or not.”

“Can I think about it?”

“Certainly. And you may collect your broom from the staff room whenever you are ready. All jinxes have been removed and it should be safe to use again.

I smiled gratefully. “Thanks, Professor.”

As I left the Transfiguration classroom and headed up towards Charms, I came across Sirius, James, Remus and Peter darting into an empty classroom, their faces alight as they pored over the Marauder’s Map. “All right,” I said as I reached them, “what’s so funny?”

“Snivellus,” said James, who was laughing so much he had trouble getting the word out. “We got his wand first so he couldn’t fight back. You’ve gotta love _Expelliarmus_ , it has so many applications! Then we cast a knee-reversing jinx on him and then _Tarantallegra_ , so he was dancing backwards.”

“Then,” added Peter, wiping his eyes, “we put him in the girls’ toilets on the second floor, you know, where Moaning Myrtle is.”

Remus continued the narrative. “We put a Shield Charm around him so he couldn’t go anywhere and put his wand on the floor just outside the Shield, so he can see it but not do anything.”

“Seems he’s been making a bit of noise,” Sirius said, smiling as he pointed at a spot on the map, “’cause McGonagall’s gone in to see what the matter is. I can’t wait to hear what he comes up with for this one.”

I cast a sour look at them. “Won’t he tell her it was you?”

“Nup,” said James, struggling to get the words out. “’Cause Moony was back around the corner, Padfoot and I were under the Cloak, and Pete had transformed, so he couldn’t see who it was!!”

“He probably guessed it was us,” Sirius said with a grin, “but he can’t prove it. He doesn’t know about the Cloak, and anyone who saw it won’t be able to identify us. So we’re home free.”

Their laughter was infectious and I found myself grinning. “All right,” I said, “what did he do to deserve this one?”

“He was hassling Lily again,” said James, suddenly serious. “He’s been making life difficult for her lately, keeps stopping her in the halls. He was trying to get his greasy hands on her.”

“Not to mention trying to cast the Finger Removing Jinx on Prongs,” Sirius added rather grimly. “Fortunately he missed and hit the plinth behind us, but that’s now missing a couple of claws at the base. It could have been nasty if he’d got us.”

“So they ducked out of sight and put the Cloak on,” Remus said, “before he could finish saying the Scalping Hex, so he missed them with that too.”

“And where was Lily for all this?” I asked, wondering why the Head Girl hadn’t put a stop to things.

“She went to the library with Martha and Charlotte to look something up before Charms,” James said. “Went straight there after she got rid of Snivellus. So she didn’t see any of it.”

“Oh, look,” said Peter, changing the subject with his eyes on the map, “McGonagall’s dragged him out of the toilets, and it looks like Myrtle’s following him! Blimey, that’d be worth seeing. And it looks like a whole class has stopped to watch! Um – yeah, Lenny Dodderidge, that’d be, what, fourth-years?”

“That’s nice for Snivelly,” said Sirius, his fingers running through my hair. “He likes being the centre of attention.”

James was laughing again. “When do you think they’ll notice he’s speaking in German? That won’t wear off for at least forty-five minutes. I can still hear him. _Topfer! Schwarz!_ ” He dissolved into laughter as we all huddled around the map, watching the drama unfold.

Soon, however, we were interrupted by the classroom door opening – no one had thought to put an Imperturbable Charm on it once we were all inside, and we had been making a tidy bit of noise – and the dank head of Argus Filch appeared. “Oh ho ho,” he muttered as he saw the five of us gathered around a desk, “what have we here?”

James hurriedly got his wand out and muttered “Mischief managed,” before tapping the map quickly. The map disappeared entirely, leaving just the blank parchment I had first seen Sirius take out a year or so beforehand. Unfortunately, Filch had noticed him doing it.

“So, Potter, caught red-handed. What’s that you’ve got?”

“Nothing,” said James, a bit too quickly. “Spare bit of parchment, that’s all.”

“That’s all?” asked Filch, his eyebrows raised. “So you won’t mind if I take it, then?”

“No,” Sirius said before he could stop himself, then recovered. “I mean, why would you bother with a scrap like that?”

“I think this is highly suspicious,” said Filch. “I think I need to inform the Headmaster of this little gathering.”

“Come now,” said Remus, his best prefect air about him, “why would you bother Professor Dumbledore with something as small as this? We’re just going over some schoolwork together, that’s all.”

“Nice try, Lupin,” scowled Filch. “But you haven’t convinced me. I think I’ll take that ‘spare bit of parchment’, Potter, if you don’t mind.”

James sighed and handed it over with obvious reluctance. Filch, however, hadn’t finished. “And you’ll all follow me. Detentions all round, I think!”

This was a bit rich considering we hadn’t actually broken any school rules as far as Filch was aware, but that minor point had never bothered him before. He marched us to his office and looked lovingly at the manacles that hung behind his desk. Rumour was he kept them clean and oiled and was always pestering Dumbledore to let him string the students up by their ankles, but for some reason this was always refused. Maybe Dumbledore thought the outbreak of _Levicorpus_ a couple of years previously had been enough on that score.

“Names,” Filch was saying, writing clearly on what looked like a ledger book. “James Potter. Sirius Black. Remus Lupin. Peter Pettigrew. And – “ He paused, looking at me, having plainly forgotten my name. That was probably fair enough, I’d not been in his office for at least three years.

“Scylla Pritchard,” Sirius said, grinning at me.

Filch appeared to have taken the bait. “Scylla Pritchard,” he mumbled, writing it down. “Crime: creating a nuisance by excessive noise.” He paused, looking at what he had written. “Hey – she’s not Scylla Pritchard!” He looked up at me. “Scylla Pritchard was in here last week for befouling the castle.” I smiled to myself, wondering what exactly that had entailed. “Name!”

“Elvira Vablatsky,” I said, spelling out the surname for him. “Ravenclaw.” I was pretty sure Elvira had never been in trouble with Filch. With teachers, yes, for hexing other students, but not with Filch. I noticed James suppressing a chuckle behind me.

“Elvira Vablatsky,” he repeated, having scribbled out Scylla Pritchard’s name. “Suggested punishment – fifty lashes each.” We all looked at each other with raised eyebrows, knowing Dumbledore would never allow corporal punishment on his watch. “Suggested punishment,” went on Filch, scrubbing out the lashes, “detentions to be held at a time suggested by the Headmaster.”

Finally he had finished his paperwork and we were allowed to go. I’d heard Filch wasn’t actually allowed to set punishments without approval from a staff member, so there was the possibility that our detentions wouldn’t have to be served at all. The main problem, so far as the boys saw it, was that their wonderful map had been put into a drawer in Filch’s filing cabinet marked _Confiscated and Highly Dangerous_ , and it was unlikely they would be able to retrieve it in the foreseeable future. After all, you couldn’t break into Filch’s office and be sure of not being caught if you didn’t use the map, and we couldn’t do that as the map was what we wanted to retrieve.

“Nice one, ‘Elvira’,” said James, giving me a grin as we hurried towards the Charms classroom – break was well and truly over and we were running late. “You almost had me convinced in there.”

“Why dob myself in when it will most probably be thrown out anyway?” I said. “And even if the detentions stand, I’m sure Elvira would be happy to stand in for me if you asked her to, Sirius.”

He considered. “You know, I think you might be right. Though then I’d have to spend a detention with her. Not a good idea. I almost wish he’d believed you were Pritchard!”

Remus laughed. “Shield Charm, Padfoot, Shield Charm. That’d do the trick.”

****

Once I got my broom back, things were quiet on the fan club front for a spell, especially after Madam Pomfrey finally succeeded in removing the horns from Elvira’s head. That had been the same day as she was told her detention from Filch wasn’t going to go ahead – it seemed Dumbledore figured that having a bit of a chat in an empty classroom during a break between lessons wasn’t really a punishable offence. The look of confusion on her face as the messenger left her at the dinner table was worth bottling, and it seemed others had noticed our mirth.

“Don’t get too comfortable, though,” Bernie told me after breakfast the next day in an empty classroom. “They’ve got something up their sleeves.”

“Yes, I expect they do,” I said. “But, if they do anything too bad, I’ll tell McGonagall it was them who jinxed my broom. Elvira knows she could be expelled for that.”

“Even so,” Bernie said, “you should be careful, okay? Keep an eye on things.”

I shrugged. “Fine. But like I said, I’m not all that worried.”

This was a mistake, as it turned out. I should have realised, when I didn’t hear much from Elvira for a couple of weeks, that she hadn’t really given up her attacks on me, more she was just planning something more substantial. I should have been paying more attention to what Bernie was telling me when he pulled me into empty classrooms and issued his warnings. And I should have been more prepared when it eventually did happen.

They struck in the second week of May, on a Wednesday, after we’d left double Potions. I headed to the library to finish my Ancient Runes essay and Sirius went to Muggle Studies, so we arranged to meet again at lunch time. Once the hour was up and lunch was about to be served, I left the library and headed down to the Great Hall.

I got a nasty shock when I found Sirius at the Gryffindor table and he gave me a filthy look. “Not you,” he spat, deliberately turning away. “I don’t want to see you.” And, leaving his lunch uneaten, he stood up and stormed out of the hall.

I stared, horrified, at the seat he had just vacated. What had just happened? What had I done? James, from across the table, was looking daggers at me as well, so it appeared that whatever had got Sirius so upset, James also believed. “You’ve got a nerve, showing your face after what you’ve been doing,” he snarled. Fortunately Charlotte came to the rescue.

“Elvira. And Carol Jones,” she said, hurrying to my side. “Apparently, in Muggle Studies they were passing notes to each other, and Professor Penrose picked it up and read it out loud.” She hesitated. “It said … it said that all those times Bernie’s been warning you about them, well, what’s actually been going on is you’ve been seeing him behind Sirius’ back.” She looked worried, her brown eyes wide behind her glasses.

I was stunned. “And he _believed_ that?”

She looked at me seriously, tears in her eyes. “The way James and Sirius are talking, they thought it was pretty convincing. So now they think that’s what’s been happening … Laura, you haven’t, have you? You wouldn’t do that, not to Sirius?”

“Of course not,” I said, staring out the doors into the Entrance Hall. Sirius was out of sight and I had no idea where he’d gone. “I couldn’t do that. And I’ve got to find him.” And, any thought of food completely forgotten, I dumped my bag at the table and hurried off in the direction he had last been seen.


	54. Elvira's revenge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laura deals with the falling-out of the last chapter’s events.

I heard Sirius before I saw him – the howling of a dog in pain, coming from the direction of the cliffs that lead down to the end of the lake. That worried me – what if he’d done something stupid? – so I sprinted to the stairs that ran down the cliff-face to the boathouse, before breathing a sigh of relief as I spotted a large black silhouette against the silver of the water. At least he was safe.

_Well, I guess it's not Polyjuice Potion_. Until this was put to me so clearly I must have been harbouring this unconscious wish - that the person who had rejected me so harshly was in fact someone else.

He saw me coming and growled threateningly. I was half frightened: I didn’t seriously think he would hurt me on purpose – physically that is – but then I didn’t also know how closely his human and dog forms were assimilated. He’d said that he didn’t feel things as keenly as a dog … did that mean he would be less reluctant to attack me?

“Sirius!” I called, then stopped myself. I had trouble calling the dog Sirius, even though I knew it was him, and it would feel weird calling him Padfoot. So I went with the only other name I could. “Snuffles, please.”

He came back to human form almost instantly, pulling out his wand at lightning speed and pointing it at me. “How _dare_ you,” he snarled, sounding like the dog he had just been. “How dare you use that name, that … that …”

I stared at him. “What name? Snuffles?”

“Making me remember. You’re doing it on purpose, aren’t you. Just so I don’t curse you into next year.”

“Make you remember what?” I asked, genuinely confused. “Doing what on purpose? Sirius, listen to me –”

“No.” His voice cut across me, distraught, though his wand was still pointed at my chest. “I don’t want your excuses.”

“I’m not making excuses,” I said. “I’ve got nothing to make excuses for.”

“So you think it’s okay?” He spat the words out, though I noticed his eyes were glistening slightly and his cheeks were wet. “After what Aubrey did? How did you think I’d react?” His wand arm dropped to his side and he turned his back on me and stared out over the lake, though I think he made sure I heard him muttering, “We never should have stopped them calling you Whore-a.”

This was like my worst nightmare. I’d already lost Mary, I couldn’t lose Sirius as well, could I? In an attempt to put us face to face, I got in front of him and put both hands on his shoulders, but he shook them off violently. “Don’t – touch – me,” he hissed, venom oozing from each word. “I _trusted_ you. I gave you everything. And this is how you repay that?”

I stood my ground in front of him, tears welling in my eyes. “Sirius. What they said, it’s not true.” I looked into his eyes as earnestly as I could, willing him to believe me.

He looked away, hurt and betrayal evident on his face before he mastered himself and put up the shutters, making him look cold and closed off. “How do you know what they said if it’s not true?”

I sighed, frustrated. “Charlotte told me Elvira and Carol were passing notes in Muggle Studies, and Professor Penrose read it out loud, and it accused me of cheating on you with Bernie Carmichael. That’s all I know.”

His eyes caught mine again, and they were cold and hard. It was like a knife running through me. “I did wonder why he kept taking you out of my sight,” he said. “It said they were amazed you’d been able to get away with it for so long without me finding out, that they couldn’t believe I’d fallen for the line you were spinning me. It was pretty convincing.” He looked away again. “And we both know he deserves you more than I do.”

I groaned inwardly – not this again. “Don’t be ridiculous,” I said. “No one deserves me more than you. We’ve been through all that already.”

“Not denying you’ve been seeing him, though, are you? Tell me, how many times when we were together were you thinking of him? How long have you been faking wanting to be with me?”

“Never,” I said. “I’ve never thought of him, and I haven’t been faking it. And of course I’m denying it, it’s not true.” I wondered what he’d do if I grabbed his shoulders again to try to shake some sense into him. “When would I have even had time to do that anyway? We’re together almost the whole time.”

“When I’m in Muggle Studies,” he said, his face expressionless once more. “You’ve got a spare hour. And he’s in Ancient Runes with you.” He paused, shaking his head. “All those times he just whisked you away, right under my nose. I should have realised what was going on.”

“Remus is in Ancient Runes, too,” I said, my eyes welling up again. “If you don’t believe me, why don’t you ask him? He would never take my side over yours. All Bernie’s been doing in those classrooms is telling me what Elvira’s been up to.”

“Like this, you mean?”

I nodded. “Exactly like this. He’s been trying to put me on my guard.”

“So, if he’s been doing that, why didn’t you warn me?” he asked accusingly. “If he’s been telling you what they’re doing, surely you would have known about this in advance?”

I shook my head and gazed at him, searching desperately for the Sirius I knew behind those steely eyes. “All he knew was they were planning something big. He didn’t know what. If he’d known about this, he would have told both of us, I know he would have.”

He sneered. “A likely story.”

I tried again. “Look, there is absolutely _nothing_ going on with me and Bernie. He hasn’t even laid a finger on me since the ball.”

Sirius looked coolly at me. “Really. So that time I saw him holding your hand, that wasn’t laying a finger? Or have you conveniently forgotten that?”

Oh. The problem was, I _had_ forgotten, that’s how insignificant it was to me. “Okay, yes, there was that one time, when I was upset about Mary,” I admitted. “But that was it, and it wasn’t anything inappropriate. If he’d ever tried anything, I wouldn’t still be talking to him, and I would have told you. I haven’t hidden a single thing from you, not one. If you need proof, I’d be happy to take some Veritaserum or something.”

It was a desperate offer, but I meant it. I’d do anything to have him believe me. “I’ve only ever been alone with Bernie for about a minute at a time,” I went on, “and you know yourself that’s not nearly long enough to do anything. Even if it was, think about it – if it was over with that quickly, why on earth would I be going back for more?”

For a split second I thought I saw him smile, and I thought I might have pierced his armour. Feeling emboldened, I tried again, putting my hands back on his shoulders and feeling rather heartened when he didn’t shake them off. “Sirius, I love you. I love you so completely and utterly I couldn’t do anything that might hurt you any more than I could, I don’t know, eat a dragon. You should know that.” I gazed into his eyes, trying frantically to see behind their shutters. “You said this to me once, but it’s so true I’ll say it back now. Sirius Black, you are the best thing that ever happened to me, and if you think I’m going to stuff that up by screwing around then you don’t know me anywhere near as well as I thought you did.”

He still didn’t speak, but I thought I saw a flicker behind his eyes. I tried yet another tack. “You’re supposed to be a dog, for Pete’s sake. Can’t you tell by my scent that no one else has been near me? And besides, Muggle Studies is on at the same time as Care of Magical Creatures, and I’m pretty sure Bernie takes that, so we couldn’t have been doing anything while you’re in class anyway.”

As if to back me up, Peter came scurrying down the stairs from the castle. “Prongs told me what happened,” he said, breathless in his hurry. “And I’ve just come from Care of Magical Creatures, and Carmichael was definitely in the class for the whole time. He hasn’t missed one all year.”

Never had I been so happy to see Peter. I could have kissed him. Sirius gave him a probing stare, but finally his face cleared and he relaxed a bit. “Right, Wormtail, I believe you. You wouldn’t lie.”

“But I would.” My voice was quiet and I looked at the ground, my cheeks wet and my heart threatening to break in two. Was that really what he thought of me? And I’d believed him when he’d said he loved me.

He turned to me again and put his wand away. “No, you wouldn’t. I never really thought you would.”

I looked up at him through tear-filled eyes, vaguely conscious of Peter, looking relieved, sidling away up the stairs back towards the castle. “Then how could you even think for a second it might have been true?”

He pulled me towards him and wrapped his arms around me. “I don’t know. I guess they were playing on my insecurities. And the way they put it, it did sound credible.”

“But why would you be insecure?” His forehead was now resting on mine and my voice sounded loud. “I’ve never given you any reason not to trust me.”

“You’re way too good for me,” he said, lifting his head from mine. “I keep thinking you’re going to realise that and leave. I thought that’s what was happening.”

“I’m not too good for you. Why would you think I could ever consider leaving you? You should know I won’t do that.”

He was quiet for a spell. “I fell in love with you,” he said eventually. “Love. Do you have any idea how _unheard of_ that is?” I looked at him questioningly. “Blacks don’t fall in love. Especially not the men. That hasn’t happened since … since forever, I think. You know what it’s like, our job is to keep the name going. Love just doesn’t come into it. I wouldn’t be surprised if the _Warlock’s Hairy Heart_ was actually written about someone in my family.”

A sigh escaped his lips. “We have a pretty comprehensive education before we come here,” he went on, looking beyond me to the glistening surface of the lake, “and it’s been hard trying to break away from it all and re-learn everything. Muggles are scum, that’s one thing we’re taught. The Blacks are such an old and important family we might as well be royalty. Don’t say please or thank you, you’re above being nice to your inferiors - and just about everyone is your inferior. And of course the basic things like women don’t join the workforce, they just marry well, and whatever happens at home stays there, you don’t talk about it. And one key thing we’re taught as boys is that forming an emotional attachment to someone, particularly a romantic attachment, is a sign of weakness. Well, the Blacks aren’t weak. We can’t be seen as being soft like that. So, it’s not an option at all. And you know, before you I must have believed that because that was what I did. I didn’t let myself get attached to anyone.”

He paused, and something flickered behind his eyes as he looked back at me. “Laura, you and me, this is something I know so little about that James’ mum had to explain it to me over the holidays. That’s how clueless I am. It’s all brand new for me.”

He shook his head, his eyes coming back to mine, and there was a pleading look to them. “And you, well you’re fantastic, but you’ve no idea.” His voice softened. “You’re just there, being beautiful and amazing, and you have no idea you’ve turned my whole world upside down. And I love it, I wouldn’t change a thing because it’s been better than I could have imagined, but it’s been a lot to get my head around. And so I’m sort of feeling my way through it, because I don’t really know what I’m doing, so then if I hear something like that then I think I must have been doing something wrong and you were just too polite to tell me. And then part of me keeps pointing out I’m just setting myself up to get hurt, because no one could hurt me anywhere near as badly as you can.”

I had to admit to being both taken aback and a little shocked by this narrative, but not really surprised. And it did explain a lot about his behaviour over the years: it must have been awful to have a childhood so removed from normal human relationships that love was such an alien concept. But before I thought too much about that, I had to respond – he had to know he had nothing to worry about. Everything else I could deal with later. All that mattered now was I didn’t lose him.

“I would never hurt you.” It came out as barely more than a whisper but it felt like the most important thing I would ever say. He looked back at me. “I couldn’t do it. I would never even touch anyone else. And you’ve done nothing wrong, nothing at all.” I paused, making sure he was taking in what I was saying. “Sirius, I love you. Always remember that.”

He smiled suddenly, his eyes looking into mine, and to my relief I could tell it was the old Sirius back again, the one who trusted and believed me. The one who loved me. “Oh, Laura,” he said, “how could I have ever believed Elvira Vablatsky over you?”

“My thoughts exactly,” I said, cracking a smile for the first time. Relief was flooding through me. “I mean, Bernie Carmichael? Really? He was the best they could come up with? Lovely bloke, but he does absolutely _nothing_ for me. And if it was him I wanted to be with, I wouldn’t have ditched him to be with you. Twice.” 

He just stood there staring at me for a bit, his grip on me tightening. “I thought I’d lost you,” he said, his voice somewhat hoarse and his eyes starting to glisten again. “And I don’t know, maybe I love you too much. Because I’m not sure I’d know how to live without you.”

“You’ll never lose me,” I said, meaning every word of it. “You’re stuck with me for life now. So you’ll never have to find out.”

He nodded and his fingers traced my cheek where a teardrop had been sitting, then pushed my hair away from my mouth. This was a bit futile considering the wind kept pushing it back, but it was one of his favourite preludes to kissing me. I reached for the back of his head, my fingers running through his hair, and pulled him towards me until our lips met.

The kiss was tender, reconciliatory, relieved, and extended, but part way through it transformed into one better described as passionate, frenzied and urgent. During this frenzy Sirius pushed me into the boathouse, leaned me up against the dusty table inside and started unfastening my robes. I pulled my face away from his. “You want to do it in here? What if we get caught?”

He smiled but didn’t stop what he was doing. “The risk makes it all the more exciting, don’t you think?”

I had to admit, the moment did seem to call for it; in fact I was as eager as him. I pulled him back towards me and reached for his belt. “Well, when you put it like that …”

Eventually, driven by hunger from our missed lunch and me not wanting to be late for Ancient Runes, we climbed back up the stairs towards the castle.

“Was that really true?” I asked on the way up. “That thing about not really caring about anyone before me?”

He laughed that bark-like laugh of his. “What, about those other girls? Absolutely it was true.” I must have looked sceptical because he put an arm around me and gave me a squeeze. “Clio, Dione, Martha, anyone else you care to name, there was definitely nothing there. Hell, I barely even _liked_ them. They were just pretty girls who seemed willing but not too desperate, and it was something to do while James was in detention.”

Well, Martha had guessed that much, but it was nice hearing it from him. He went on. “But you, Laura, there’s something about you. You get inside me somehow. I don’t think I could fight that even if I wanted to.”

I smiled. “And you know what? You do that to me, too.”

He grinned wickedly and winked at me. “What, get inside you? I thought we’d just demonstrated that.”

“Hilarious.” Things were getting rather back to normal, if he was making comments like that. I groaned and rolled my eyes because I was expected to, but I gave him a bit of a squeeze as well, just in case of any lurking doubts.

Lunch hour wasn’t quite over yet and there were still about a third of the student body in the Great Hall when we got there, finishing off all the food. At the Gryffindor table were our friends, empty plates in front of them and the anxious looks on their faces erupting into relief as we entered hand in hand.

“Thank goodness you sorted it out,” Lily said as we sat down where I had dumped my school bag earlier. “James told us what happened. He was livid at you, Laura, till we worked out it wasn’t true.”

Charlotte nodded. “Yep, Peter and Martha came in from Care of Magical Creatures and told us Bernie hadn’t missed a class all year. So he couldn’t have been shagging you while Muggle Studies was on, because the classes clash. So we sent Peter out to find you.”

“And with how long you were off in those classrooms, no one could do anything in that time,” Martha added. “A minute or two? Half the time it takes that long to get your robes out of the way. So notwithstanding the fact it’s you, Laura, and you’d never do that, it wasn’t physically possible. Not without a time-turner, and I don’t think there _are_ any of them at Hogwarts.”

“Sorry about that, mate,” James was saying to Sirius. “She did a good job, though, didn’t she?” He cast a filthy look at the Ravenclaw table, though Elvira appeared to have left already.

“You should have seen him,” Remus said, obviously referring to James. “Once it was clear the whole thing was bollocks, he stormed over to Elvira and had a real go at her. Said that even if you did believe it, with the amount of school we have left you wouldn’t get over Laura till exams were well over so it was pointless anyway, you still wouldn’t have been single. Not in the way they were hoping for.”

“That wouldn’t bother Elvira, though,” Martha said. “She’d be happy to be the rebound.”

Lily giggled. “I haven’t seen James so angry since Bellatrix Lestrange tried to recruit us for Voldemort. I don’t think any of them will be taking him on again anytime soon.”

I was wolfing down some cold roast chicken – Ancient Runes was only minutes away and I needed some sustenance to get me through the hour. “They must have planned to have the note confiscated,” I said to no one in particular.

“Yeah, Penrose always reads things like that aloud when he notices them,” James said. “It was worded perfectly, and of course you weren’t there to defend yourself. They planned it well.”

Remus looked at me. “Runes is about to start. Are you coming, or do you have some making up to do?”

I downed my pumpkin juice quickly. “I’m coming. Too close to exams to miss a class if I can help it. Besides, we’ve already made up.” I looked at Sirius and grinned, then scooped up a lukewarm Cornish pasty to take with me. Sirius stood up as well.

“I’m coming too,” he said, grabbing my other hand. “Vablatsky’s in that class, right?”

The three of us made our way to the third floor and Professor Babbling’s classroom, where indeed Elvira and Bernie were waiting outside. Bernie had obviously been on the lookout for us and intercepted us before we got to the gathered students.

“Black, I heard what they said, you do know it’s not true?” He looked apprehensively at Sirius, who smiled wryly.

“Carmichael, if I thought it was true, you’d be in the hospital wing by now.” He looked down at me and squeezed my hand. “But Laura wouldn’t do that.”

Bernie nodded. “No, she wouldn’t. And neither would I. I’ve only been trying to help.”

Sirius didn’t appear to have heard him as he was looking over Bernie’s shoulder at the tall blonde figure of Elvira, a very nasty expression on his face. He pushed his features back to normal and looked again at Bernie. “Sorry, but I have something to deal with here.” His voice rose. “Oi! Vablatsky!”

Elvira looked over nervously. It had been obvious she knew we were there and was ignoring us, but she couldn’t do so forever. Even Remus, calm and even-handed as he generally was, was fingering his wand as he glared at her. Eventually she lifted her chin proudly and walked toward us.

“Sirius! What a nice surprise! To what do I owe this honour?”

“Nice try,” he said. “Mildly convincing, yes, but I ask you, how long did you really think I’d believe that nonsense for?”

She feigned ignorance. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t pretend you don’t know,” he said, anger and loathing etched on his face. “Even Carmichael’s ticked off his name was dragged through the mud. You don’t care who you hurt so long as you get the result you want, do you?”

Elvira, to her credit, was looking rather uncomfortable, but soon mastered herself. “It would have been worth it if it had worked. You’re too good for her. You deserve someone better.”

“I think I can figure out for myself who I’m too good for,” he said. “Though really I’d say she’s too good for me.” His grip on me tightened. “I suppose, by ‘better’, you mean yourself?”

Her nerve seemed to have fired up. “That’s right,” she said, plainly determined to make the most of this rare opportunity to state her case. She had moved close to him and was pushing her chest up against him, as though the promise of an extra cup size would be enough to lure him away from me. And I was right there, _holding his hand_ , for Pete’s sake. Did she not see me? “I could make you happy. More than she does. And I’m a pure-blood, we’re a better match.” Behind her I could see Babbling had opened the classroom door and was allowing the students in. This needed to be over soon.

Sirius laughed, a sour, mirthless laugh that I very rarely heard from him. “Don’t tell me you’re spouting that pure-blood nonsense as well? I thought you had more sense than that.” He paused. “Then again, thinking about it, I’m not convinced you have any sense at all, so perhaps I shouldn’t be surprised.” He looked down at her with pure loathing, and the next time he spoke his voice was fierce and he had pulled out his wand. “If you come near Laura, or any of my friends, again, or if you say one word about any of them, ever, you’ll have me to deal with. And I won’t show any mercy.”

I stood up a little straighter and looked her in the eye. “And I’ll be making a visit to McGonagall’s office to tell her who jinxed my broom. You could be expelled for that, couldn’t you? Oh, and I think you need these back.” I flicked my wand at her and the cow horns, tail and bell reappeared.

Putting a hand to the new horns, Elvira quickly gathered up her bag and hurried off in the direction of the hospital wing. Sirius glared after her, then turned to me, putting his wand away. “You’ll tell me, won’t you, if she gives you any more trouble?”

I nodded. “Believe me, Sirius, if she tries anything else, you’ll know about it.”

His face relaxed and, to my left, so did Remus’. I hadn’t realised he too had been on edge during the confrontation. “Good.” Sirius put both arms around me and his voice dropped to barely a whisper as he spoke very close to my ear. “I love you. Always remember that.” I smiled at his repeating what I’d said earlier, and it was certainly reassuring to hear. I kissed him briefly and it was very reluctantly that we let go of each other and I went into class.

Remus gave me half a smile as we found our desk. “It’s nice to be reminded occasionally why I’m friends with him. ’Cause I definitely wouldn’t want to be his enemy.”

I shuddered as I pulled out my quill and parchment. “Me neither. That would be downright scary.”

Professor Babbling was watching us with half a smile on her face, though it was quickly replaced by her more customary firm expression. “Now, then, everyone, if we can stop talking about people’s love lives and get back to the subject of Ancient Runes,” she said, her eyes resting on Bernie and then me. Merlin’s beard, I thought, even the staff knew about it. Next to me I heard Remus still chuckling to himself, and I forced a more serious expression on to my face as I pulled my textbook and ink bottle out of my bag.

Once class finished, Veronica Smethley caught up with me pretty much as soon as the bell rang. “Laura, I just wanted to say how glad I am you two worked it out,” she said.

I was surprised – I hadn’t been expecting support from people I barely knew. “Thanks, Veronica.”

She smiled. “I mean it. You’re so cute together, it would be a real shame if you broke up over _her_.”

I laughed, hoisting my bag onto my shoulder. “Don’t let him hear you say that. He hates being called cute.”

“Doesn’t he just,” said another voice, and I looked around to see Clio Zeller, which surprised me even more – not only was I not expecting support from people I barely knew, but I definitely wasn’t expecting it from Sirius’ exes. “But you are cute together. You obviously adore each other. Old ferret-face is just jealous.”

I smiled at her as we made our way out the door. “And you’d know all about that, too, just as I do.”

“Too right I do. But it was never as bad as this. It was mostly wand stuff, Transfiguring my nose, that type of thing, which is easy enough to deal with. Or the extremely mature Dungbomb attack.” She rolled her eyes. “Most of it I didn’t even need to go to Madam Pomfrey to fix.”

“Yeah,” said Veronica. “They never tried character assassination. Though I guess that’s what happens when you team up with someone like Dione.”

I nodded. “And I could deal with it when it was so outlandish it obviously wasn’t true. You know, I was pregnant to someone else, that kind of rubbish. But they hit on just the right level of believability this time, it seems.”

Clio was nodding. “I’m in Muggle Studies, too. It did sound plausible. Though, considering who it was coming from, I was surprised he took it as seriously as he did.”

Suddenly I heard my name called out and looked up to see Sirius hurrying toward me. “Great, I’ve caught you.”

“What’s up?” I asked, aware Veronica and Clio had just made subtle exits.

“Listen, I’m sorry about before,” he said, falling into step with me and grabbing my spare hand. “The boathouse. I didn’t force you to do anything, did I?”

“Of course not. If I didn’t want to you would certainly have known about it.”

“And I didn’t hurt you? I wasn’t too rough or anything?”

I shook my head. “No. Again, you would have known about it if that was the case.”

He was visibly relieved. “It’s been bothering me. But I want to make it up to you. The Shrieking Shack, tonight. Prongs will even loan us the Cloak.”

I dropped his hand and put my arm around him. “You don’t have to make anything up to me,” I said, just happy everything was back to normal. “Like I said, if I wasn’t comfortable I would have said something.”

“Even so, these things should be done properly. Besides, I made you cry and there’s absolutely no excuse for that. Is your homework all up to date?”

I thought about it. Thursday was a big day – double Transfiguration, then Charms, then double Herbology. “Yeah, I’ve finished all those.”

“Excellent,” he said, smiling. “We’ll go down after dinner – or we could eat in the village if you like. Either way, pack a toothbrush, we don’t need to be back till morning.”


	55. Settling the score

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laura decides to turn Elvira in, once and for all. And then, just as she’s finally caught up with all her homework, she gets in the way of a nasty curse.

That very afternoon I made the trip to Professor McGonagall’s office. “Elvira Vablatsky,” I said without preamble as I went inside. “And Greta Catchlove. Possibly there are more, but those are the two I think were responsible.”

She looked confused. “Responsible for what, Miss Cauldwell?”

“Hexing my broom,” I said. “I confronted Elvira and she didn’t deny it. And I want her to be punished.”

She looked at me wryly. “This doesn’t have anything to do with any notes that were confiscated by Professor Penrose this morning, does it?”

I faltered. She knew about that? News did travel fast at Hogwarts. “Well, yes. I’ve had enough. She’s been making my life hell all year and that was the last straw.”

“And you’re sure about the broom?”

“I think so. I asked her what would happen if Professor Dumbledore got the Veritaserum out and she did look worried.”

McGonagall nodded. “Well, I will advise the Headmaster and also Professor Flitwick of your allegations. Should they prove accurate, it will naturally be up to Professor Flitwick to decide on the nature of the punishment, as he is their Head of House.” She paused, looking at me over her glasses. “Thank you, Miss Cauldwell.”

I nodded, feeling better already. It was amazing how cathartic telling on someone could be. “Thanks, Professor.”

Of course, news may travel fast at Hogwarts, but it also passed quickly into the ether as it was replaced by more interesting gossip. Before long most people seemed to have forgotten about the whole episode with Elvira and Carol and my alleged dalliance with Bernie Carmichael. The fact that not only had Sirius and I not broken up but had actually come through it potentially stronger than we were already appeared to have stymied the fan club for a while, who were conspicuous by their inaction. This of course was a welcome change, and we were able to spend the time previously spent fending off various insinuations and the like in a more productive manner – that is, actually studying. After all, NEWTs were approaching at a rate of knots and I was very keen to keep on top of everything, which was much harder for me to achieve than it was for someone like Sirius.

Having said that, there were still the occasional side trips, usually inspired by Sirius who, even without the still-confiscated Marauder’s Map, still knew every nook and cranny of the castle and grounds and was slowly introducing me to them. Not only was I now on first name terms with the house elves in the kitchen, but I could dart down any one of over a dozen secret passageways when trying to avoid someone or when running late to class, head into Hogsmeade whenever I liked, or find secluded corners of the corridors or greenhouses that were almost invisible unless you knew exactly where to look. The boys had really gone to great lengths to find out as much about the castle and grounds as they possibly could and I felt honoured they were sharing this considerable knowledge with me.

Naturally, I did most of these things in Sirius’ company. One such excursion happened one Tuesday morning as we were leaving Herbology, when he steered me not towards the castle but across the lawns, past the Whomping Willow.

“Come on,” he said, “I want to show you something.”

I was somewhat confused but allowed myself to be led, overriding any possible objections in my head by telling myself we had no more classes until after lunch, more than two hours away.

“Where are we going?” I asked, not entirely sure I wanted to know the answer.

“The forest,” he said, ignoring my involuntary stumble at his words. I’d been inside the forest a few times, not very far and always as part of a Care of Magical Creatures lesson, but as I had no desire to meet hostile centaurs or Acromantulas I had never ventured in there on my own.

“Right.” I was a little unsure but he’d never taken me anywhere dangerous before, so I decided to go along with it. “Why?”

“Got something to show you,” he repeated with a smile. We had reached the edge of the forest and he grabbed my hand as he led me inside. We walked in silence for ten minutes or so, pausing occasionally while he tried to work out his route. Clearly he knew the forest well and was taking me to a particular spot.

Eventually we reached our destination. Even I, who had no idea where we were headed, knew it was the place – a lush green clearing, unusually open to the elements as though the trees had decided to leave it alone. The grass – what you could see of it – was soft and springy and was almost completely covered with wildflowers which had obviously decided that was a good place to bloom, making the air heavy with their perfume.

Sirius took in my smile as I looked around. “It’s nice, isn’t it? We found it last full moon – why we’d never spotted it before I have no idea, but then again the centaurs hang around this area a bit so we often stay clear of them.”

“Full moon?” I looked at him sharply. “I thought you went to the Shack for that.” I put my school bag down on a patch of grass and sat down nearby, trying to avoid damaging any of the flowers.

“We do,” he said, sitting so close to me our hips were touching. “But really, can you see a werewolf and a stag staying in there all night? No, we come back through the tunnel and wander around in here. Or sometimes around Hogsmeade. Either way, much more room.”

I stared at him, a feeling of horror flooding through me. “But what if you came across someone?”

He shrugged. “We’ve seen people around a few times but that’s what Prongs and I are there for, to stop Moony from attacking anyone. No one’s been in any real danger.”

He seemed to be either unaware of or blasé about the risks involved, but I realised if he didn’t take it seriously now then nothing I said would make a difference. He was a bit stubborn like that. I decided to change the subject.

“Are we likely to run into any centaurs here today?”

He shrugged again. “It’s possible. You can never rule things like that out. But I don’t think we will, I saw some of them this morning on the other side of the forest so hopefully they’ll be hanging around there today. And I can’t smell any sage or mallowsweet burning so that’s a good sign.”

I nodded, having heard about the centaurs’ habit of burning herbs to divine the future. “And what other creatures might we see?”

“Various birds, of course,” he said after a pause. “Thestrals – though neither of us can see those. You know they’re in here though ’cause you see them eating sometimes. Looks a bit freaky, let me tell you. Unicorns, which are more likely to come near if _you’re_ here – they tend to keep well clear of us. A few Hippogriffs, maybe, but they don’t generally come into this area so it’s not very likely. Little things like Bowtruckles and Knarls, of course. We’re not far enough in to disturb the Acromantulas or the forest trolls so don’t worry about them. We might see some Porlocks, they like the grassy spots, but they’re usually scared of people so they’ll probably hightail it out pretty quickly.”

I laughed. “Quite a menagerie then.”

He nodded, smiling. “Yep. Though like I said, most of them are a bit wary of people, so we’re not likely to see much. Oh, and Hagrid might stumble through, I suppose, but you can generally hear him coming from a mile off so I wouldn’t be too worried about that.”

I turned a smiling face to him and he took the opportunity to kiss me, just a brief, gentle kiss that we might exchange in the Great Hall at lunch time, for example. I responded in kind, bringing my hands up to his face, and before long the quick pecks had segued into something deeper, more passionate, and we had fallen backwards and were lying together on the soft grass surrounded by crocuses, our arms around each other.

We didn’t usually succumb to temptation like this in the middle of a school day, but then again we weren’t usually somewhere quite as private as the clearing in the forest was. Sirius plainly intended to make the most of it as after a couple of minutes he started to unfasten the front of my robes. I put my hand on his, shaking my head.

“We don’t always need to do that,” I said, just enjoying the snog without moving on to anything further.

He looked chastened. “No, of course not. I’m sorry.” And to his credit he moved his hand back to my face and smoothed my hair away from my eyes, kissing me again without missing a beat.

Within five minutes I was forced to eat my words, however, as he got me to a point where I was barely able to hold on myself. I pushed his face from mine and looked him in the eye. “I’ve changed my mind.” And I grabbed his hand again and put it on my thigh, underneath my robes, and then reached for his belt.

He grinned mischievously. “You are magnificent,” he whispered, his face two inches from mine, his eyes sparkling.

I smiled back. “I know.”

****

We headed back to the castle, hoping to get to the Great Hall before lunch break was over so we could get something to eat, as there was no way we would get through double Defence that afternoon without some sustenance first. Fortunately we made it on time, after a quick stop on the lawns not far from the Whomping Willow ensured neither of us had any grass or petals in our hair or anywhere else that might indicate what we had been doing.

It was a good thing we managed to eat, we discovered shortly, as Professor Perkins had decided it was a good time to try duelling again, and I certainly wouldn’t recommend trying that on an empty stomach.

“With your NEWTs coming up,” she said, “you will be required to demonstrate your duelling ability in the practical component of the exam. It would be useful if we spent a couple of lessons fine-tuning your skills so you can get through that section with a minimum of pressure. Now, if you could please find a partner and some space on the floor, and we will begin on my whistle.” The desks and chairs were again Banished to the walls and we all looked for a willing adversary.

I automatically sought out James, expecting him to partner me as we did in our weekly duelling classes, but when I turned to him he grinned and said, “You and Lily can probably do this yourselves now.” Smiling, I nodded and looked at Lily, who also had the beginnings of a broad smile on her face. This would be our first proper duel since Sirius and James had begun teaching us, and she had clearly been looking forward to it.

Before Perkins had even blown her whistle for us to begin, however, Sirius and James had already provided another distraction. Aware the duels hadn’t started yet, they began tossing spells at each other almost randomly in what I was sure they would describe as a warm-up. The rest of the class, however, saw it as a proper duel and had stopped to watch, so the boys upped the ante and, grinning broadly and plainly enjoying themselves, treated us to what could only be described as a demonstration event.

“You can’t even see what they’re doing, it’s so fast,” Thalia Strout said in astonishment. “How could you stop them?”

I suppressed a grin. I knew exactly how to stop them, or Sirius in any case. Parts of him were so ticklish that a well-placed _Rictusempra_ was pretty much guaranteed to stop him in his tracks, no matter what he was doing. I wasn’t about to mention that, however – like I’d already noted, gossip travelled fast at Hogwarts and if there really were budding Death Eaters in our year, I wasn’t about to give them any ammunition against him.

They fought for a few minutes and Professor Perkins, plainly impressed, began to use them as examples of how everything that should be done in a duel, pointing out different moves so long after they had been finished we had trouble keeping up with them. Needless to say, James and Sirius soon became the poster boys for duelling and I was sure they would be called on to demonstrate various actions to the rest of us once the class got underway properly. They earned ten points each for Gryffindor just for being brilliant.

Eventually Perkins asked them to stop so we lesser mortals could have a go without distractions, and Lily and I bowed to each other and set to work. I must admit I was pleased with our efforts, and in the corner Sirius and James looked equally impressed. While we still weren’t anywhere near their level we had both certainly progressed, and were able to put on a good enough display for Perkins to award us each ten points for most improved.

“Well done, ladies, you have obviously been practicing since our last duelling lesson,” she gushed. Lily and I just looked at each other and suppressed giggles. If you could call three or four hours a week of intense training ‘practicing’, then yes, that was certainly what we had been doing.

James and Sirius clearly agreed. “Much better,” James said with a grin after we had finished. “Still not perfect, but you’re good enough not to make any stupid mistakes.”

Sirius nodded. “Yep, we might almost let you out in public, where you might need to do it, before too long.”

Lily and I looked at each other again and smiled. If the boys were that happy with our progress, we were probably looking at an O for our Defence practical exam. With Sirius and James as our instructors, we knew nothing less than that standard would have been good enough.

I noticed Remus and Charlotte had partnered each other and wondered if there had been any progress on that front, or if they were still dancing around each other without really communicating at all. Not seeing any evidence Remus had actually come clean, I asked Charlotte that night in the dorm.

“He’s been trying to tell me something,” she said, her head framed from the light of the Gubraithian flame by Mary’s wall. “Every few days he comes over and sits with me and says something like, ‘please don’t hate me,’ but then he can’t go any further. Do you know what it’s about?”

I hesitated. While I knew exactly what was going on, I thought admitting that probably wouldn’t go down very well. “Not really,” was what I said. “He’s got something on his mind. I’m sure it’s not too bad.”

“I don’t know,” she said. “If it wasn’t bad, then why would I hate him if he told me?”

Martha, who’d been listening to the conversation, laughed. “Come on,” she said. “Do you really think _Remus_ would have any deep, dark secrets? James, Sirius, even Peter I could believe, but Remus?”

Well, that just proved how good he was at hiding things, I thought. Hoping my face didn’t give anything away, I decided to back her up. “It’s Remus,” I said simply. “We know him. It’s like Martha said, he wouldn’t do anything bad.”

Charlotte smiled. “You sound like Lily. She’s been saying the same thing.”

_Good_ , I thought. _Weight of numbers_. “Well, then,” I said, “we can’t both be wrong, can we?”

“No, probably not. And you spend much more time with him than I do. It’s just – it’s frustrating,” she said. “I’m getting the feeling that whatever he’s trying to tell me is keeping us apart, but I can’t help if I don’t know what it is.”

“It’s Remus,” Martha repeated. “Like I said, if anyone’s going to be above board, it’s him.”

“That’s right,” I said. “I think you can trust him, Charlotte. Just give him some time.”

****

A couple of days later, Professor McGonagall came to see me at the Gryffindor table at lunch time. “Miss Cauldwell,” she said, “can you come with me, please?”

I got up to follow her and noticed Sirius had come with me. “What’s wrong, Professor?” I asked.

She looked grim. “Please come to the Headmaster’s office. Yes, Black, perhaps you should come too.” She walked swiftly up the marble staircase and I hurried after her, completely confused. The Headmaster’s office? What had I done wrong?

McGonagall didn’t elaborate as she led Sirius and me up yet more stairs and finally stopped outside a statue of a gargoyle. “Cockroach cluster,” she said, and the gargoyle moved away from the wall and revealed a winding staircase.

I looked at Sirius and mouthed, “Cockroach cluster?” It seemed to me to be an unusual password for somewhere as austere as the Headmaster’s office. He, however, looked completely unsurprised, and Dumbledore was in some ways an unusual man, so perhaps it was just one of his quirks.

When we reached the top of the staircase – which moved by itself, rather like a Muggle escalator – Professor McGonagall knocked on the door, then opened it without waiting for an answer. “I have Miss Cauldwell, Professor,” she said. “And Black, who I believe was a witness to the event.”

Already inside and apparently waiting for us were Professors Dumbledore and Flitwick, and Elvira and Greta. With a sudden rush of understanding I knew what this was about – the broom-tampering incident. This would be, for want of a better word, the trial.

“Ah, you are here,” said Dumbledore lightly, as though this was nothing more serious than afternoon tea. “Please take a seat, both of you.”

We obediently sat down on adjacent chairs, and McGonagall took the last remaining seat on Dumbledore’s right.

“You have been called here,” the Headmaster said, “due to a very serious allegation which was made against Miss Vablatsky and Miss Catchlove. Professor Flitwick has accompanied them as Head of Ravenclaw House.” I nodded – it didn’t seem like I needed to say anything yet. “I ask everyone here to think back to Saturday the eleventh of March, and the days leading up to it. Miss Cauldwell, can you please tell me, in your own words, what happened that day?”

****

“Well,” I said to Sirius on the way back downstairs, “that was painless.”

“More painless than being bucked off your broom, in any case,” he said with a grin.

“I must admit, though, they surprised me with how quickly they capitulated. I thought they’d deny it or something.”

He laughed. “Really? I didn’t think that was surprising at all.”

I looked at him, confused. “Why not? Didn’t you think they’d try to hedge for a while to get out of it?”

He reached over and gave me a squeeze. “Dumbledore’s a Legilimens, Laura,” he said as though he was explaining something to a three year old.

I was confused again. “A what?”

“A Legilimens,” he said, looking at me in surprise. “What, don’t you know what a Legilimens is?”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “I’ve never even heard the word before.”

He paused. “Legilimency is the ability to look into someone’s thoughts.”

“Like reading minds?” I asked, trying to work out what he was trying to say.

He hesitated. “Sort of. Unless you know how to block it, a Legilimens can look inside your head, so to speak, and see what’s foremost in your mind. That’s why no one can ever get away with lying to him, because he can always tell.”

“Oh.” This was a reasonable amount to take in, and I really wasn’t sure I liked the idea of the Headmaster probing my thoughts like that. “Is that what he’s doing when he gives you that really intense, penetrating stare? He’s looking inside your head?”

Sirius nodded. “Something like that. And I think those two gigglers worked that out pretty quickly, that there wasn’t any point in lying to him.”

“Well, they are in Ravenclaw,” I said. “What do you think will happen to them?”

He shrugged. “Search me. I doubt they’ll be expelled, because Mulciber wasn’t, and neither was Avery. And neither was I, for that matter. A prank that _could_ result in death isn’t the same, in Dumbledore’s eyes, as a prank that _does_. But really it’s up to Flitwick.”

I giggled suddenly. “They had a rather nasty time in there, though, didn’t they? When they tried to convince Dumbledore we’d been going outside the rules?”

He laughed. “But we have. Oh, did you mean anything they’d know about? Yes, that _was_ good. I doubt they’ll forget that in a hurry. What did Dumbledore say again? ‘Sorry, Miss Vablatsky, but it is not the policy of Hogwarts School to punish people for falling in love,’” he quoted, doing a surprisingly good impersonation of the Headmaster in the process. “At least now the staff know this whole thing was just jealousy on their part. With any luck, it’ll blow over in no time.”

****

The following week found me in the common room, knee deep in homework. It was getting towards the end of May and with everything that was going on, from the loss of Mary to Sirius to the fan club shenanigans, I was having some difficulty keeping up with it all. Sirius had agreed to leave me alone for a while so I could get some assignments finished so I was surprised when, about three quarters of the way through my essay, he joined me at my table in the common room, taking the seat opposite.

“Whatcha doing?”

“Homework,” I said, scribbling down another sentence before I lost my train of thought. “Remember? I told you I had to finish this.”

“That’s right,” he said, leaning back on two legs of his chair and looking like he was going to settle in for the long haul. “Well, don’t mind me then.” He pulled a rather tattered-looking motorcycle magazine out of his bag and started flicking through it.

Before long, however, he’d given up on that and was alternately playing footsies with me underneath the table, or reaching across it to push my hair out of the way. It was distinctly annoying and after a while I gave up trying to ignore it and glared at him instead.

“Stop that, would you?” I asked, trying to reach past him so I could get my Rune Dictionary. “I need to get this finished.”

He pouted at me. “I’m bored.”

“I gathered that. How about you go find James and bug him instead?”

“He’s with Lily.”

“All right, Remus then.”

“Hospital wing. He’s still a bit beat up from last night.”

Of course. I’d forgotten it had been a full moon. I was a bit annoyed with myself for being so insensitive but then again my essay wasn’t writing itself and it was getting late. “Peter?”

“Extra Astronomy lesson,” Sirius said. He jerked his thumb at my essay. “Come on, that can wait, can’t it?”

“No, it can’t. It’s due tomorrow, and I don’t want to have to rely on that free period beforehand. Because knowing you you’ll want to do something and if I say no you’ll keep on bugging me like you’re doing now.”

He paused, obviously thinking, before his face cleared and he beamed across the table. “Well, let me help then,” he said, as though that was the most brilliant idea he’d ever had. “Which one is it?”

“Ancient Runes. Remember? That subject you don’t do?”

His face fell again. “That’d be right. How much more do you have to write?”

I looked at my parchment. “About six inches. And the more you distract me, the longer it will take me to write it.”

“So why didn’t you do that last night?”

“Because I was finishing my essays for Charms, Transfiguration and Herbology last night,” I said, more tetchily than I’d meant. “Besides, I’ve got that much to do that if I’d tried to finish it all last night, I think I would have been up even later than you were.”

He looked slyly at me. “How do you know how late we were?”

“I don’t,” I said with some frustration. “I’m guessing. Now will you please be quiet so I can finish this?”

He pouted again. “Well, what am I supposed to do?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. Go find Snape or someone.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “Snape?”

“Yeah. Give him a flamingo neck or something. That should take up some time.”

“I thought you were trying to stop us from hexing him too much,” he said with a sly grin.

“Yes, well, when I need to get this finished and you’re not letting me, I’m prepared to make that sacrifice. Besides, Lily’s so sick of him trying to talk to her all the time I thought it might distract him.”

“Okay, okay, I get the hint,” he grumbled. “I know when I’m not wanted. I’ll go.” And he stood up and started to walk towards the portrait hole, only to pause half way across the common room, turn around and come back.

I looked up at him. “That was quick.”

“I didn’t want to leave you,” he said, taking the seat opposite again and reaching for my hand so he could kiss it. “So I’ve come back to beg your forgiveness and ask if I can stay.” He gave me his most winning look. “Please?”

I gave up. Let’s face it, I could never hold out against him for too long, particularly not when he was saying things like that and looking at me so hopefully. “You can stay, but you just need to stop touching me for a spell so I can finish up.”

He raised his eyebrow again. “And how am I supposed to be near you and not touch you? That’s asking the impossible.”

Smiling at the compliment, I thought about that. “Full body bind?”

“Very funny.”

“It’d work, though. Come on, I’ve only got six inches to go, it shouldn’t take too long – if you’d just let me do it. Please? I really want to get something better than a T for this.”

He accepted defeat. “All right. I’ll try to behave. So now I can stay?” He looked at me expectantly.

“Yes, you can stay,” I said wearily. “But if you’re going to be here you can at least make yourself useful. Hand me that book on the top there, please, would you?”

****

Even with these little separations so I could catch up with my schoolwork, however, everything went haywire for me the following day after a nasty altercation in the dungeon. We had just finished a rather gruelling double Potions class in which we had attempted to make a Mandrake Restorative Draught (which was rather more difficult than any of us had anticipated), and I headed out of the room with Sirius, James, Lily, Remus and Charlotte. The boys were going to see Lily, Charlotte and me off at the library so we could get some revision done, but on the way out James just couldn’t resist sending a passing shot at Snape, who had looked hopefully at Lily once again as she passed him.

“Ah, Snivellus,” he said with mock politeness as Snape, alone at the Slytherin table, packed up his cauldron and school bag with his eyes still pleadingly on Lily, “I thought you were asked to stay away from the Head Girl?” He paused, a broad grin on his face. “ _By_ the Head Girl, if I’m not mistaken.”

Lily, who had been glaring at Snape, turned her attention to James and looked just as annoyed with him. “Why do you always need to push him?”

James pretended to think about that. “It’s just the fact that he _exists_ , I think …”

We all laughed, remembering the argument by the lake back in fifth year. So much had changed since then, and Lily’s expression softened as she looked at James.

 “Not much of an existence, though,” I said as we followed Lily to the door, not thinking he could probably hear me. “In Slytherin, ugly, greasy hair, no friends, Death Eater wannabe …”

Our laughter was interrupted by Severus, who made an angry hissing noise that echoed through the dungeon before uttering a curse I’d not heard before. I felt a burning sensation around my ribcage and blood was gushing from fresh wounds in my left arm and side. Before I could articulate anything, however, I felt myself go dizzy and collapsed on to the floor of the dungeon, knowing no more.


	56. Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The good news is that Laura is still alive. The bad news is that Sectumsempra is a rather nasty curse that no one wants to be hit with, so her recovery is a little extended.

I woke up what must have been some time later, undeniably in the hospital wing and with blood-stained bandages all down my arm, from shoulder to hand, and some more on my side, just where the ribcage sat. Idly I tried to wriggle my fingers, and they moved okay so there couldn’t have been all that much damage done, though it did cause a shot of pain all the way up my arm. But I was alone, and that confused me. Where was Sirius? Or Lily, or James, or any of the others? Where, for that matter, was Madam Pomfrey?

The first question was answered almost immediately as I heard an argument outside the door. Most probably not very far outside, from the volume of it, but then again I was still a bit woozy and wasn’t game to trust my judgement too much. In any case, Sirius was definitely involved.

“What the hell did you think you were doing??” I heard him yell. “You could have killed her!”

“I would have thought you, of all people, would have no problem with trying to kill someone, Black,” came Severus Snape’s voice, calm as ever. “You tried to kill me, after all, only two years ago.”

“That’s got nothing to do with this!” Sirius shouted. “She could have died! She was that close, if we hadn’t been there …” His voice trailed off.

“But how much of a loss would that really be?” Snape asked silkily. “Mediocre skills, no particular talents, spawn of a Muggle and a blood traitor … Why, you seem upset, Black. What is it, you don’t want to lose your whore? Don’t tell me you’ve become _attached_ to it …”

Gee he had a lovely way with words, better even than Elvira and fantastic for improving my self-esteem. I could almost feel the tears welling up on the spot – after all, no one wants to be branded a whore and I had no idea how many others in the school shared that opinion. Fortunately Severus was cut off mid-sentence: I heard nothing more except a sharp cracking sound and then a thud, which I soon learned was Snape hitting the floor after Sirius punched him in the face. I discovered this fairly quickly as Severus was the next student admitted to the hospital wing and I could see the broken nose and cheekbone, and the bruising that was already starting to come up. He was clearly unconscious: it looked like it had been a good punch.

And it also demonstrated where Madam Pomfrey had been – there was another bed occupied, towards the back of the room and surrounded by privacy screens, and she had clearly been attending to whoever was in that. She came bustling out looking most concerned and immediately set to work on fixing Snape.

I’m afraid I didn’t react well to that, seeing the school Matron hovering with such care and attention around the person who had attacked me for what had felt like no good reason. I felt myself getting nauseous and started dry-retching into my hands, not having anything else to use. _Let him rot_ , I thought bitterly, _let those bones knit together just like they are_. If he was casting cutting curses on people then he shouldn’t have been entitled to be fixed up.

Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall and Slughorn had accompanied Severus into the hospital wing and once Madam Pomfrey had changed my bandages (behind a privacy screen, obviously) and given me a potion to help with the nausea, they sat around my bed.

“I understand you have been cursed, Miss Cauldwell,” Dumbledore said, and it occurred to me I had seen more of him in the last week than in all of the previous seven years. “Can you tell me what happened?”

“We were leaving Potions,” I said, trying to remember the sequence of events. “James had said something that got Snivellus a bit worked up. I don’t remember what it was but it was probably something to do with Lily. We all laughed and I said something that extended it and he got really ticked off. Next thing I knew he’d thrown a curse at us and it hit me here.” I indicated my left side with my other hand. “There was a tidy bit of blood and then I woke up here.”

“Would you say you were deliberately antagonising Mr Snape?” Professor Dumbledore asked.

I thought about lying but decided very quickly against it – if he was a Legilimens there wasn’t much point, and it would have required too much effort anyway. “Yes, probably. I didn’t intend for him to hear me, but I don’t think I would have minded much if I’d realised. I don’t like him and neither do the others. He’s nasty and he gives me the creeps.”

“And this is mutual?”

“Yes and no,” I said, unable to stop what had to be irrational tears spilling down my cheeks. “He hates James mostly because of Lily, it’s obvious he’s still got a thing for her. He doesn’t like Sirius either which I think is because of the tunnel under the willow thing a couple of years back. I don’t know he’s got much of an opinion of me either way, though, we’ve never had that much to do with each other.” I took a breath and looked at the Headmaster, hiccoughing a little. “But don’t say that justifies what he did; we never got our wands out, not once.”

“I never suggested it was justified, Miss Cauldwell, I was just looking for motive. And getting a feel for our student dynamics,” Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling a little behind his half-moon glasses as Professor McGonagall handed me a tissue I could mop my eyes with. I tried to use my left arm but the muscles obviously weren’t fixed yet and the movement caused a stab of pain down that side, so my good hand took over.

Professor Dumbledore waited politely until I’d finished, though I was still hiccoughing rather uncomfortably. “So, in your opinion, do you think Mr Snape was trying to hit you with the curse, or someone else?”

I thought about it. “At the time I thought it was me because I’d just said something that made him pretty irate. But he might have been aiming for James, he was on that side of me and Snape _really_ hates him. But I really don’t know. You’d have to ask him.”

Slughorn snorted. “Unfortunately Severus has been knocked unconscious, so we’re not able to ask him anything at the moment,” he said bluntly. I smiled to myself – Sirius had done well there, and I was rather proud of him. “And I hope, Albus, that you’ll be punishing the one responsible.”

“That is up to Professor McGonagall, as Mr Black is in her House,” Dumbledore said. Slughorn scowled, though I was unsure whether that was because Dumbledore had left his punishment up to McGonagall, or because Sirius wasn’t in Slytherin like Slughorn had hoped he would be.

“Thank you, Horace,” Dumbledore continued, making it obvious the conversation was over, then turned back to me. “And thank you, Miss Cauldwell, you have been invaluable. We will leave you to your recovery.”

I soon heard McGonagall speaking to Sirius out in the corridor, sounding less than impressed. “Muggle fighting, Black? I expected more of you than that.”

Sirius was clearly unrepentant. “He attacked Laura. He could have killed her.”

“I am aware of what Mr Snape is accused of,” Professor McGonagall said tersely, “but that is still not a reason to lose control like that. I expect students from my House to behave in a more appropriate manner.”

“Right.” Sirius sounded like he was getting stubborn again.

“Might I ask,” McGonagall continued, “why you chose to retaliate in that particular way?”

“James had taken my wand off me,” Sirius said. He paused, and when he spoke once more his voice had a resigned sound to it. “So, Professor, how many points have I lost this time?”

There was another pause, though very brief. “I will deduct ten points from Gryffindor for fighting. I will, however, let you off a detention. In this particular case I think you have suffered enough.”

“Thanks, Professor.” I waited for the sound of footsteps leading away but there were none. After a pause, Sirius spoke again. “Can I go in now? To see her?”

“That is up to Madam Pomfrey,” said McGonagall. But then she appeared to soften. “I’ll see what I can do, Black.”

_Please, Madam Pomfrey, let him in_ , I thought furiously. If I ever needed to be held, this was the time. Unfortunately she decided to start fussing over me again, checking my bandages even though they had only just been changed and force-feeding me some potion or other, before I could get a word in and beg her to allow me visitors.

“I think not, you need rest,” she said as she took my pulse, first in my good arm and then my bad one, then peered into my eyes and asked me to stick my tongue out.

“But I’ll rest much better if I’ve seen people,” I said hopefully once I’d complied with her requests. “Please, just five minutes, please?”

Eventually she relented. “All right,” she said, sticking a thermometer into my mouth. “But _only_ five minutes, not a second longer.”

I looked at her gratefully. “Thanks, Madam Pomfrey.”

Within seconds Sirius was by my side, glaring at Snape’s figure across the room as he came in. “Are you okay? Does it hurt? Will you be able to use your arm again?”

I laughed as he put his arms around me, carefully avoiding contact with my injuries. “Yes, yes and I don’t know. But probably.”

“And what about here?” he asked, gently touching the spot under my arm where the curse had also hit. I winced involuntarily as pain shot through the area with even that minor contact.

“I’m not sure. It hurts. I think I heard Madam Pomfrey telling someone it’s only skin damage, he didn’t hit any organs or slice through the bones or anything. But she hasn’t told me much so I don’t really know.”

“I was so worried,” he said. “There was so much blood and you looked like you weren’t breathing. Fortunately Moony had his wits about him and conjured up a stretcher to get you up here, I think I would have tried to carry you and that might have made it worse.”

“Looks like you got it all out of your system, though,” I said, looking at Snape. “I think you improved his appearance.”

His face set grimly. “Deserved everything he got. If you knew the things he was saying about you …”

He loosened his grip on me and I lay back against my pillows, the hurt coming back as I recalled Snape’s words. “Actually, I do know. I’d just woken up and I heard everything.”

“What?” Sirius looked horrified. “Don’t let it get to you, he was trying to get me riled up, he didn’t really mean it.”

“I don’t care anyway,” I said, suddenly resolving to try to make this actually true. It was only Severus Snape, why should I heed what he said? “I don’t care what he thinks. It’s not worth getting worried about.” I grinned suddenly. “Did James give you your wand back yet?”

“So you did hear everything. No, not yet, but then again that’s probably a good thing.” He cast a filthy look at the corner Snape occupied. “With what I want to do to him right now, it’d probably land me in Azkaban, and I can think of better places to spend the rest of my life.”

I shuddered. “Definitely. Don’t do anything stupid on my account, okay?”

He looked surprised. “Who else’s account would I do it on? But you getting better is more important right now. Take it easy, okay?”

“I’m just glad it’s my left arm. If he’d hit my wand arm I would have been in all sorts of trouble for the rest of term. Not to mention the exams.”

“You’ll be fine,” he said. “And we’ll make sure you’re kept up to date with everything. I know how important that is for you.”

I smiled weakly, feeling rather tired all of a sudden. Maybe Madam Pomfrey had been right to restrict my visitors. “What would I do without you?”

He smiled back but didn’t answer the question. “You just take it easy. Go to sleep if you need to, don’t worry about me. But I’m here if you need me.”

I was in the hospital wing for close to a week, though if you’d asked me how long it had been I wouldn’t have been able to say. I spent so much time, especially initially, dozing on and off and waking up at all sorts of strange hours I had no idea of what day it was, let alone what time. I did know that my parents – even Mum – made the trip north to see me, to make sure I was recovering okay and to reassure themselves that the perpetrator was being punished, but I wasn’t really up to talking to them much or even staying awake, so their visit was only a brief one. After about the fifth time I fell asleep in front of them, exhausted from the effort of trying to behave normally, they decided they weren’t really helping by being there and took off back home again.

That was probably a good thing, as their presence was keeping Sirius away, and that was a trial for both of us. In fact, aside from the time Mum and Dad were at Hogwarts, it seemed that every time I woke up Sirius was almost always there, in the chair next to my bed and probably most uncomfortable, particularly considering he seemed to sleep there. Charlotte told me Madam Pomfrey had tried to make him leave several times, even attempting to physically eject him from the room, but he simply refused, leaving only when he had classes of his own, and I had the impression he only went to those so he could tell me what I was missing.

And then, there were other things to talk about. “Have you heard?” Lily asked one day as she hurried in after lunch. “They’ve arrested someone over Mary!”

I sat up straight in my bed, wincing in pain as my injuries protested. “Really? Who?”

“There were a couple of them, people called Leon Bletchley and Felicity Gamp, apparently. They got arrested last night. Low-level Death Eaters, according to the Aurors, but at least they’ve caught them.”

“I hope they rot in hell,” I said. “Mary’s family should never have been attacked like that.”

“Well, they’re likely to be sent to Azkaban, which is pretty much the same thing,” James said. “The _Prophet_ says the trial’s scheduled for July, so we’ll be able to keep an eye on it.”

“I wonder if we can go?” I wondered aloud. “To see them get taken down.”

“Not sure,” said Sirius, who seemed to be keen that I not get too worked up about this. “We’ll know more later. Don’t worry about it just yet.”

I leaned back onto my pillows and smiled, attempting to calm down. “Okay. I’ll try.”

As my strength increased, I was allowed visitors more frequently, though Madam Pomfrey still cast a resentful eye at Sirius whenever he was in the chair next to my bed. He regularly conjured up a desk that fit over the bed that I could use if I needed to make notes myself or to do the homework that was set, and at other times used it himself to get his own homework done. When he was away at Muggle Studies, Remus would take up residence in his usual chair and work me through what I’d missed in Ancient Runes, as well as making observations of the sort only Remus came up with.

“I’ve been talking to Sirius a bit lately,” he said matter-of-factly one day as he sat down. “You realise that he’s changed since he started dating you?”

“Uh oh,” I said, worried. People don’t tend to like it much when their best friends have changed, and I didn’t want to get any of the boys offside.

“No, in a good way,” he explained hurriedly as he got out Friday’s Ancient Runes notes. “He’s not so impulsive or reckless, he thinks things through more.”

“Not always,” I said with a smile, my mind flicking to the episodes in the boathouse, the forbidden forest, and others like them.

He looked at me, his eyebrows raised, though he was smiling and his eyes had a bit of a twinkle to them. “I don’t think I want to know what you’re thinking about.”

“No, you don’t,” I said. “But I know what you mean, as a general thing. Though I put that down to growing up a bit. Plus what happened here,” I went on a little ruefully, indicating my still-useless left arm. “What does James think?”

“He’s too busy going through the same thing because of Lily,” Remus said. “Probably the growing up thing is part of it too.” He frowned slightly. “I’m not sure about you being cursed, though, it was happening well before then. Besides, Lily wasn’t attacked and, like I said, James is doing it too.” He paused, looking at me as though trying to work something out. “I like you as a couple,” he said eventually. “You’re different, but you complement each other, balance each other out a bit. It works well.”

“Thanks,” I smiled. “Sirius said pretty much the same thing at Easter.”

“I’m not surprised.” He grinned at me. “Now, here’s what we did in Runes last Friday …”

****

By the time I was finally released from the hospital wing my injuries had improved rather significantly, though my arm was still a little weak and both scars a bit sore. Madam Pomfrey explained that because I’d been cut with a curse, and one she hadn’t seen before, she wasn’t able to seal the wounds like she would normally have been able to do, and it had taken a while before anything she tried had worked. In the end she’d had to call on Professor Dumbledore to help out, and between them they had finally managed to close the wounds, though I was warned the scarring down my arm and across my ribcage would most probably be permanent. In any case it explained why I had been drinking so many Blood Replenishing Potions – if she wasn’t able to stem the bleeding then I would have been in trouble otherwise. No wonder I’d felt weak.

Severus Snape escaped serious punishment and, even more unfairly, left the hospital wing looking as though Sirius had never hit him in the first place. Anyway he lost fifty or so points for Slytherin, which apparently did not enamour him to his dorm-mates, and suffered a half dozen detentions, but he didn’t seem to have lost his petty and vindictive hatred for James and Sirius and made a point of referring to me loudly as “Black’s whore” at every given opportunity. Then again, Veronica Smethley told me before Runes one day he’d been calling me that for a while, it just hadn’t made it to our ears until the cutting curse incident. Charming, really, and while it stung a bit every time I heard it I resolved to never give him the satisfaction of knowing that. I could well understand why Lily had cut off her friendship with him. (Of course, I found no evidence he had ever referred to her as “Potter’s whore” – obviously the fact he still fancied her was enough to stay his tongue on that score.)

Sirius seemed to find Snape’s label of me even more offensive than I did – like I’d decided in the hospital wing, he wasn’t worth getting worried about, and I rather successfully put an imaginary shield between him and me so what he said usually just bounced off. But Sirius saw it as a slight on my honour, which I suppose it was, and kept trying to defend me. Whenever we heard the reference he would pull his wand on whoever said it and cast what usually turned out to be one of Bea’s hexes on them, before turning to me looking worried. “You know you’re not just that, don’t you?” he would ask.

“Of course I know,” I reassured him at lunch the next day, trying to ignore Maggie Flint doing an impression of me as, well, a whore. (Honestly! Had they never heard of subtlety? They had so much to learn from even someone like Dione Turpin.) “Do you really think I’d believe Severus Snape over you? They’re just trying to get a reaction out of us.”

“But I don’t like them saying it. They’re spreading lies and they shouldn’t be able to get away with it. You’re so much more than that.”

“Are you going to have a go at Dione and Elvira as well? They all do it, just in different ways.”

He grinned. “Not Elvira, not anymore. She and Catchlove in detention for the rest of the year. Separate detentions, that is, so they can’t plot anything else against you. Oh, and the Ravenclaw House points are looking even sicker than Slytherin’s.”

“Nice to see they got their just desserts,” I said. “But yeah, Dione’s still spreading her stories and you haven’t jinxed her.”

He made a face. “I probably should, though, after that rubbish she and Vablatsky spread about you last month. I don’t like it. If there’s one person at this school who’s irreproachable, it’s you.”

I shook my head wearily – I was still getting tired more quickly than usual, despite the potions I was still taking. “No one’s irreproachable. You just have a selective memory.”

“Of course you’re irreproachable. You never do anything to anyone except in retaliation. You can’t say that about many people here.”

I gave up. “Whatever.” If he wanted to believe that I wasn’t going to bother arguing: it was so much easier to just agree with him. Then something else occurred to me. “Anyway,” I went on, feeling a little more energetic all of a sudden, “we’ll be out of here in another month or so, then it doesn’t matter what they say because we’ll never see them.”

He put an arm around my waist and gave me a squeeze. “That’s the spirit. And of course eventually you’ll be a Black yourself, so that particular label will be null and void anyway.” He froze suddenly, as though realising what he’d said. “Maybe. And only if you want to, of course.”

I smiled and relaxed into him. “That sounds nice.”

****

Sirius took me aside as we headed upstairs after lunch. “I hadn’t said that before, had I?” he asked a little sheepishly.

“What, that I’ll become a Black?” I asked. “No, I can’t say that you have.” I knew why it bothered him – he and James were always very careful not to say anything like that to anyone. Apparently someone in James’ family had once made a similar off-the-cuff statement to a girl he was seeing and she’d taken it to be a proposal, and he’d felt honour-bound to abide by her acceptance. The story went that the marriage ended up being a disaster so James, and by extension Sirius, had learned to mind what they said in that regard.

He nodded, looking a little uneasy. “I … I …geez, Laura, I’m sorry, I don’t really know what I’m trying to say. I’ve just thought that so many times I’d forgotten I hadn’t said it out loud.” He hesitated. “But you do know I meant not yet, right?”

I smiled again. “Well, the fact you used the word ‘eventually’ would generally indicate that, I think. Besides, I suspect it would be a bit of a giveaway to my dad I’d been ignoring his orders this year.”

He chuckled, obviously relieved. “Yes, let’s get school out of the way first,” he said, putting his arms around me again. I winced slightly as he put pressure on my injuries but ignored the pain – he made me feel safe and secure and that was exactly what I needed after what had happened with Snape.

“Brilliant idea. And speaking of which, we really should be getting to Charms. I can’t afford to miss any more classes.”

That was undeniably the truth. NEWTs were only a week away and we were up to our ears in study and revision. Fortunately I’d been attacked late enough in the year to not miss much that was actually new, as our teachers had been going over what we’d done in the two previous years, but I still had some catching up to do. At least I had a tidy bit of support, though – Sirius and James were more than happy to share their considerable knowledge, which Lily topped up for Potions and Remus for Ancient Runes, and the other girls not only helped me organise my thoughts but also made sure I didn’t get too worked up over anything.

Of course, the rest of the seventh-years were in a similar boat, and it was a common sight to see students at mealtimes propping a textbook up against various bottles or dishes and continuing their revision while they ate. Even Cadmus Bragge, who’d gone home earlier in the year on the death of his father at the hands of the Death Eaters, had returned and was frequently seen knee-deep in textbooks and parchment as he tried frantically to catch up on everything he had missed.

Someone must have been looking after me, though, because my strength returned just three days from the beginning of exams. Whatever combination of potions Madam Pomfrey had been giving me had obviously worked, and aside from my scar still hurting on contact, I was pretty much as good as new. Okay, I still got tired a bit more easily, but overall you could say I was cured.


	57. NEWTs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Final exams have arrived, and getting through them all can be a struggle.

Finally, the first week of exams was upon us. This was what it was all about, we realised, what our seven years of education at Hogwarts had been leading to. This was the point of no return. This, in other words, was NEWTs.

I was very grateful I didn’t do Astronomy, because that was the only exam held on the first day. Actually, to be precise, the theory exam was held on the first day, but the practical was that night at midnight. I didn’t appreciate Martha charging around the dorm on her way out when I was trying to get to sleep, but at least I wasn’t the one who had to go. If nothing else, I probably would have fallen asleep half way through, due to both the tediousness of the subject matter and the fact, even with my strength pretty much returning, that I was still getting tired more easily than I’d done previously. Not that I admitted this, mind: Sirius was overprotective enough as it was without me giving him further ammunition.

My first exam was held the next morning. Ancient Runes was one of the few NEWT subjects that only had a theory exam but no practical one – something I hadn’t realised when I chose it as a subject, but I was revelling in now – and, unlike the previous year, I managed to get through without any mistranslations that necessitated an entire re-write of the exam paper.

“That wasn’t too bad,” I said to Remus as we left the Great Hall. “It wasn’t brilliant, but I reckon I passed.”

He laughed. “Yes, one down, ten to go.” Which was correct, if you counted each theory and practical session as a separate exam.

“Thanks for reminding me,” I said, pouting. “I was all ready to just enjoy the fact this one’s over, and you had to bring up the rest of them.”

“Well, considering the next one is right after lunch, I thought you might need the reminder. Though it looks like we might have another distraction anyway ….”

I followed his gaze to the courtyard outside, which appeared to have been covered in streamers. It also featured the occasional puddle, which was surprising as it hadn’t been raining. A look at the sky above the courtyard, however, solved the mystery very quickly – Peeves, who was also plainly responsible for the streamers as, now I could see them better, they spelled out rather rude words, was having a lovely time dropping water balloons on people.

“Really?” I asked as we joined the throng on the edge of the courtyard, out of range of the balloons, watching the spectacle. “Second day of exams, and he’s doing _this_?”

“Be thankful it’s only water balloons,” came Sirius’ voice from behind us. “He was threatening to drop the bust of Falco Aesalon on a bunch of third-years the other day. Prongs said McGonagall had all sorts of trouble coaxing him out of it.” He put an arm around me. “How’d the exam go?”

“Fine,” I said with a smile. “No monumental stuff-ups this year, and I didn’t get tired halfway through. I thought that was a good start.”

“Yes, well, you’ve got Herbology this afternoon, so you’d better get some rest now.” And there I’d been, thinking that me saying I didn’t get tired would reassure him rather than give him cause for concern. I’d have to try something else if I wanted him to leave me alone on that score. “Come on, we’ll leave the Head Boy to try to deal with Peeves,” Sirius said. “And if he can’t do it, well then we’ll just have to make sure he hears about it for the next month.”

****

After breakfast the following day, those of us who did Herbology waited patiently in an empty classroom on the ground floor while the Great Hall was set up for the practical exam. The room was filled with an eerie quiet, punctuated only by people muttering things under their breath, trying to remember every little bit of information they could.

Like the theory exam had been the previous afternoon, the test itself wasn’t particularly onerous. We were led into the room in pairs, me alongside Gertie Cresswell, and matched with an examiner who asked us to do things like prune a Devil’s Snare without raising its ire, attempt to breed a Venemous Tentacula, and identify the bulbs of a Bubotuber from those of a Mimbulus Mimbletonia.

Once Sirius and I had been let out, we waited as the others joined us one by one. Finally James, as a P the last in the alphabet out of all of us, exited the Great Hall and, joined by Martha, Charlotte and Peter, we headed as a group down to the beech tree by the lake, where Lily and James had had their shouting match two years previously. The mood was rather different this time as James and Sirius weren’t in the middle of a hex battle with Snape, and we spread out in the shade, our bags sitting randomly on the grass, and chatted amongst ourselves.

“Well, I thought that was a piece of cake,” James said, his arms around Lily, who was sitting directly in front of him. “What about you, Lils?”

Lily considered. “It could have been worse. At least I didn’t get attacked by the Devil’s Snare. Unlike Maggie Flint.”

Sirius laughed. “Is that what happened? I wondered why you all got held up.” He was leaning against the tree trunk, me lying down with my head in his lap as he stroked my hair absently.

“Devil’s Snare?” James asked incredulously. “But we learned how to deal with that in, what, first year? How thick does she have to be to get attacked by it now?”

“She tripped over it,” Lily said, unsuccessfully trying to stifle a giggle. “It didn’t seem to like that much. And then a Screechsnap followed her as she tried to run out of the hall. It was hilarious.”

We all shared a laugh at the thought of Maggie Flint being chased through the Great Hall by a wayward plant, but sobered up remarkably quickly when Remus cleared his throat.

“So what’s next?” he asked, looking unusually distracted as he pulled some books out of his bag. “I should probably try to get some revision in.”

“Charms,” Charlotte said. “Theory this afternoon, practical in the morning.”

“Do we know why they’ve done it that way?” Martha asked. “Every other year, it’s been theory in the morning, practical in the afternoon. Why spread it out over two days like this?”

Lily shrugged. “Not sure. I think it had something to do with when the plants could be taken out of the greenhouses, that sort of thing. They had scheduling nightmares, apparently.”

“And at least they took some pity on us,” James said, smiling broadly. “Nothing on the first Monday morning or the last Friday afternoon, no matter what subjects you had. That has to count for something, doesn’t it?”

“And nothing on the morning after the Astronomy practical exam,” Peter added. “I for one thought that was fantastic scheduling.”

James chuckled. “You would, Wormtail. I’ve never met anyone who needs quite as much sleep as you seem to.”

“But Ancient Runes was on then,” I said, propping myself up on my good arm and looking confusedly at Peter. “Astronomy was Monday night, right? Well, we had Runes on Tuesday morning. So there _was_ one organised for then.”

Lily shrugged again. “Probably there weren’t any crossovers. You know, no one who does Runes did Astronomy as well, so it wasn’t an issue.”

“Yeah, okay, fair enough,” I said, lying back down again. “That makes sense.”

“They’ve only broken it up for the first week, too,” Martha said, looking at the exam timetable. “Next week it’s theory in the morning, practical in the afternoon, just like every other year.”

“And it’s Charms next,” Charlotte repeated, clearly noticing Remus was still looking flummoxed.

“Right.” Smiling a little in thanks, Remus dug around his bag, found _The Standard Book of Spells Grade Seven_ and his Charms notes and started flicking through them.

“Good idea,” I said, lifting my head to see where my bag had ended up. Finding it nearby, I pulled out my copy of the same book, wincing slightly as the muscles in my left arm twinged. “Sirius, would you test me please?”

“Of course.” He took the book from me and scanned the index, holding it so I couldn’t see the pages. “Right, what’s the definition of a Disillusionment Charm?”

****

Like Herbology, Charms was fairly straightforward as far as the exams went, and even though I was still tiring a little I didn’t feel I exerted myself too much in either of them. I was grateful, however, for the afternoon off after the Charms practical exam – Muggle Studies was being held then, and I was happy to comply with Sirius’ not-so-subtle suggestion to escape to the dorm for a couple of hours and just relax.

“It’s not the same without you,” I told Mary’s wall, looking at a photo eye level with me as I sat on my bed. “There was a gap in Herbology where you should have been, and I wanted to show you my Impeturbable Charm.” I went over to the wall and picked up the everlasting candle. “We still miss you,” I said. “But at least they’ve caught the low-life scum who did this to you. They’ll be sent to Azkaban, I know it. And maybe then we’ll get some closure.”

I was interrupted by the dormitory door opening, and Charlotte coming into the room. “What are you doing?”

“Having a rest. Sirius’ orders. Though you’ve got to love the irony, really – climbing seven flights of stairs in order to rest.”

She giggled, though quickly adopted a look of concern. “Are you still getting tired?”

“Sometimes. It’s much better than it was, but it’s still there. I don’t really want to tell him, though, because he fusses about me enough as it is.”

“You’ve got a point there,” she said, smiling broadly. “Okay, I won’t say a word. You have my promise.” She paused, looking around the dorm and glancing through the open bathroom door before speaking again. “Isn’t anyone else in here, though? I thought I heard voices.”

“Oh, that was me,” I said a little shyly. “I was talking to Mary. I do that sometimes.”

She nodded. “I do too. I think we all do. Only when we’re alone, but we do it.”

“It just feels weird, not having her doing the exams too,” I said. “It’s like there’s this big hole that shouldn’t be there.” I put the candle back in its place, feeling a little embarrassed to be talking like this. Fortunately Charlotte understood.

“And she should be downstairs right now doing the Muggle Studies exam,” she said. “Yes, I know.”

I giggled suddenly, lying on my stomach and looking at her. “Not that she’d mind missing that. She hated Muggle Studies. She thought it was fun at first, but she didn’t like the last year or so. Said it was getting too overwhelming. If Sirius and James weren’t in the class to lighten it up a bit, I think she might have dropped out entirely.”

Charlotte looked surprised. “I never knew that!”

I shrugged. “She didn’t tell many people. I dare say Sebastian knew, and Sirius and James certainly did because I think they bore the brunt of her complaints about it, but she could be a bit, well, secretive, for want of a better word.” I sighed, rolling onto my back. “Her mum did SO well here that Mary didn’t like people to know when she was struggling. She felt like she wasn’t living up to expectations.”

Sitting on her own bed, Charlotte shook her head in astonishment. “You live with someone in the same room for seven years, and you find out you barely know them,” she said. “I had no idea.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I said, propping myself up again. “She was happier that way. And it wasn’t a huge thing with her, just one of those family things we all have. You know, like me not being allowed to have a boyfriend this year.” I giggled. “Because _that’s_ worked so well as a rule.”

She looked at me. “When are you going to tell them?”

I shrugged again. “Prize giving ceremony? Once I get home? Haven’t really decided, to tell the truth.”

“And what do you think will happen to you?”

“I have no idea. The main thing is getting through these exams and doing as well as I can. Because if I pass, and pass well, then their argument becomes irrelevant. If it doesn’t affect my grades, then they’ve got no grounds to complain.”

“You sound pretty sure of yourself,” she said with a grin.

“I think I have to be,” I said. “It’s got to come out eventually, so I need to have an argument ready as to why it doesn’t matter.”

“At least you’ve got that to worry about. I’d love to be in that situation.”

My heart sank. He still hadn’t told her. After everything that had happened this year, he still hadn’t found the courage to say it. “I’ve tried, Charlotte,” I said sadly. “I’ve done what I can.”

“I know,” she said. “I just wish I knew what it was all about.”

I grinned suddenly, propping myself up on my right elbow. “Well, how about we put that exasperation to good use?” She looked at me, clearly confused. “We’ve got Defence on tomorrow,” I said. “Practical Defence exam. If _that’s_ not a good place to get some frustration out of your system, I don’t know what is.”

Understanding danced across her face and her eyes sparkled behind her glasses. “Want to practice?”

“Better not,” I admitted. “I’m supposed to be resting and all, remember? But I’m sure we can rope Martha in. Let’s go find her, shall we?”

****

I’d been looking forward to the Defence exams, particularly the practical one. The training Lily and I had been doing for the past few months had given me a real boost of confidence, despite how easily fatigued I was at the moment, and I was sure I would be able to deal with anything the examiner sent my way.

First, though, we had the theory exam, which was held right after breakfast. Sirius had been keen to get me eating as much protein as possible to give me energy for what was ahead, and so filled my plate with eggs, bacon, sausage and kippers, ignoring my protests I would have preferred toast.

“You need to have your strength up for today,” he said, taking away my pumpkin juice and pouring me a coffee instead. “We don’t want you collapsing half way through the exam. So eat, okay?”

Figuring it was easier than arguing with him, I set to work on my over-large breakfast and managed to eat far more than I’d anticipated. Finally I pushed my plate away, finished the dregs of my coffee, and turned to Sirius.

“I’m ready.”

We all headed off to the classrooms that doubled as waiting rooms – needing more than one due to the extremely high numbers of students taking the subject that year – and talking quietly among ourselves as the Great Hall was put into its exam configuration. I was more confident for this exam than I had been for any of the others, even Herbology, simply because of the time I’d spent with Sirius and James, and their vast knowledge and experience of the subject matter. Injuries and fatigue notwithstanding, I felt there was nothing that could be asked of me that day I wouldn’t be able to fulfil.

As I’d thought, the theory component wasn’t easy, but I didn’t have any particular difficulties getting through it. I knew enough about things like Patronuses and the like to rattle off the theory without even thinking, and my knowledge of Unforgivables and other Dark spells had increased a hundredfold since what had happened to Mary.

The practical exam was even better. I’d really been looking forward to this one because, if I thought I got through it all right, then I knew I would be more confident about fighting when I got out into the real world. Fortunately, the duelling lessons and other time spent with James and Sirius paid off – not only did the half hour with the examiner feel closer to five minutes, but I pulled off each and every spell and defensive move asked of me, first time every time. It was exhilarating, made even the more so when I was able to look at Greta, at the next table, when casting some of the nastier hexes on the spiders provided for the purpose. If nothing else, it was wonderful to be _told_ to put a Shield Charm between us. It looked like having our surnames so close together alphabetically could be a blessing as well as a curse after all.

“How did you go?” Sirius asked as I came out of the Great Hall that afternoon, glowing.

“Fantastic,” I said, sitting down next to him in the room set aside for those people who had completed their exams. “It was brilliant. Didn’t miss a trick. Even with only one arm, effectively.” As a lingering effect of the attack on me a couple of weeks previously, my left arm was still sore and couldn’t really be used in any useful way. Fortunately, once I explained this to my examiner (on the advice of Professor McGonagall) she agreed to take it into account in the marking process. I grinned. “And I had a lovely time looking at Greta over the examiner’s shoulder when I was casting Stunners and the like on those poor spiders. It was very therapeutic.”

“Good on you,” he said, laughing a little. “I knew you could do it.”

“Well, what it means is, I’ll be able to hold my own out there,” I said. “I might even be able to make a difference if I can fight properly.”

His face fell again. “You’re not back on that, are you? I thought that with Mary’s killers arrested, you might not be so keen.”

“Mary _died_ ,” I said. “Absolutely needlessly, too. I want to help make sure that doesn’t happen to anyone else.”

He sighed. “Can we talk about this later?”

“There’s not much ‘later’ left,” I said. “In another fortnight we’ll be just about ready to board the train home again, and then it IS the real world we’ll be living in. And I’ve told you I want to fight. Why should that change just because an arrest or two were made?”

“But I want you to live,” he said. “Is that too much to ask?”

“Same goes for you, and you’re going to fight. What makes me so different?”

“Because if something happens to me, it doesn’t matter,” he said, like he was explaining something obvious to a three year old.

I stared at him. “What do you mean, it doesn’t matter? Of course it matters! That would kill me, if anything happened to you.” I paused. “ _Never_ think you don’t matter. You matter more than anything. You should know that.”

He just shrugged, and I knew this was a fall back from his family’s rejection. I wondered if he would ever get over that, if he would ever understand he was in fact worthy in his own right. Some wounds take a long time to heal.

****

The second week of exams was much less stressful, for me at least. I’d got most of my subjects out of the way in the first week, leaving only Transfiguration and Potions. Admittedly these were probably the two most difficult subjects to master (unless you were James and Sirius for the former, or Lily for the latter), but at least it meant I could focus all my revision time on just those two. This made my week much easier than Martha’s, for example, who had Care of Magical Creatures, Transfiguration, and Arithmancy, or Charlotte’s, whose timetable didn’t feature Care of Magical Creatures but included Divination and Potions. Given the choice, I much preferred my schedule over theirs.

The Transfiguration exam wasn’t until Wednesday, so I had all weekend and Monday and Tuesday to prepare for it. Unfortunately, for this one Sirius wasn’t as much help as you might have thought, because he knew it all so well he sometimes had trouble explaining exactly how it worked.

“But isn’t it obvious?” he asked one day as I was trying to figure out how he applied the theory of human Transfiguration to doing it in practice. “Look, any of this stuff has to be done by instinct, otherwise it’s not going to work.”

“But how does that work?” I asked. “What if you don’t have the right instinct? Does that mean I’m going to fail if I can’t just sense it?”

“Well, I guess instinct _can_ be taught,” he said doubtfully, frowning slightly. “Wormtail didn’t seem to have much to start with. But those theory books, they don’t really teach Transfiguration the way I learned it.”

Well, that was a useless conversation. I would never be fully confident about any aspect of human Transfiguration (even those things I had done well enough on in my OWLs to pass) with that sort of vague advice. Frustrated, I approached Peter.

“I don’t really know,” he said when I asked how to get what Sirius called the instinct. “It was so long ago now that I don’t really remember. Laura, that was fifth year. I’ve done it so many times now it’s second nature.”

“No hints?” I prodded. “No little things you can remember? No tips or tricks?”

He shook his head. “Sorry. Like I said, it’s kind of second nature by now. I honestly don’t remember how I learned it.”

Again, not much help. With nothing else to fall back on, I reverted to Charlotte’s advice back in fifth year: approach it like Bea was teaching me. I’d not really spoken to Bea much in the past year – obviously she wasn’t at Hogwarts anymore, and her job at the Ministry meant she wasn’t home all that much in the holidays, either – but my years of being the beneficiary of her boredom had to pay off somehow, didn’t they?

Sending Sirius off somewhere with Remus while Peter was doing his Divination exam (and James was, of course, with Lily), I settled down in a quiet corner of the common room to attempt to do some proper revision, safe from any major distractions. Fortunately, the rest of the students were also busy revising for exams, so much so even Wendy Savage decided she had better things to do than bother me, and I was able to get it done in peace. And, at the end of three or four hours, I thought I had it.

“Get it worked out?” Sirius asked as I joined him at the Gryffindor table at supper time.

I nodded, smiling. “Thanks to Charlotte.”

Charlotte turned to face me, clearly confused. “What did I do?”

I grinned at her. “You helped me out two years ago, and the advice was still good. I think I’m ready for Transfiguration tomorrow now.”

“Oh.” Charlotte still looked confused, but was obviously happy to take the credit. “If it helped, then I’m glad I said it.” She paused. “Whatever it was.”

“Well, it definitely worked. I’m ready to take on the world now. But first, food. I’m starving.”

I admit to having some difficulty getting through the Transfiguration exams the next day, even with the renewed vigour I had from using Charlotte’s advice from OWLs, but then again it was the subject I had the most trouble with in general so that perhaps wasn’t all that surprising. My second hardest subject, Potions, was the next day and I was looking forward to that even less, though fortunately Lily was a much better tutor than Sirius had been.

“Base ingredients first, then auxiliary,” she said like it was a mantra. “Make sure you follow the instructions – read every line twice or three times before you move onto the next one. You don’t want to forget to add the powdered Graphorn to your Mandrake Restorative Draught, do you?”

I shuddered. Larry Gibbon had done just that in class one day, and his potion had ended up smoking rather horribly and leaving a smell rather like burnt cheese. It was distinctly unpleasant and, of course, had ruined his work for that day. The thought of getting a zero for my practical exam did not appeal to me one bit.

“Good point,” I said. “Right. Base first – and that ALWAYS includes animal parts – and then the auxiliaries, and make sure I read every line three times. I think I can do that.” I smiled at her. “And thanks for not saying it’s all down to instinct. That really doesn’t help.”

She giggled. “James was the same with Transfiguration, unfortunately,” she said, launching into a rather good impersonation of her boyfriend. “‘But you just _know_!’ Completely useless,” she went on in her normal voice. “But we got through okay, didn’t we?”

I grinned. “Yep. And now, just Potions to go, and we’re qualified!!”

She glared at me. “For _you_ , perhaps. I’ve still got Arithmancy on Friday. So no celebrating till after we’ve done that one, okay?”

Somewhat sobered, I nodded. “Of course not. Sorry, Lils.”

****

Theory of Potions was something I had never really got my head around, aside from Lily’s snippets of advice like adding base ingredients first. But the properties of moonstone or how hellebore will react when combined with aconite were things I had never really understood. As a result, I was less than happy with my exam the following morning.

“How’d you go?” Martha asked as we traipsed out of the Great Hall just before lunch and headed out into the June sunshine.

James grinned. “Brilliant, as always.”

Sirius clearly agreed. “It wasn’t all that hard, I didn’t think. I’ll be surprised if I don’t get at least an E for it. And probably an O.”

Martha groaned. “And now I’ll ask some _real_ people. You know, ones who don’t get Os in everything no matter how little they study.” She turned to me. “Laura?”

I shrugged. “Not great. But not horribly, either. I had some trouble with how sneezewort reacts to powdered Erumpet horn, but overall I think I passed.”

“That sounds more normal,” she said as we all sat down on the banks of the black lake. “How about you, Charlotte?”

Charlotte blushed a little, and I wondered if that had more to do with the fact Remus was sitting rather close to her than anything else. “I struggled a bit,” she said. “I always confuse Boomslang parts with those from regular snakes, and I think I muddled up Roonspoor and Ashwinder eggs.”

Remus laughed. “You know, I think I made that exact same mistake.”

Charlotte grinned, pushing her glasses up her nose and blushing even more. “But that’s only a small bit, right? Hopefully I did well enough with the rest of the paper.”

The practical exam that afternoon was much easier. Yes, the potion itself was incredibly difficult, but as Lily had said, it was only a matter of going through the instructions very carefully and it was hard to completely muck it up. Having said that, however, there was a bit of a commotion when Leda Minchum from Hufflepuff managed to melt her cauldron halfway through, so clearly not everyone was as calm as I was.

And then, finally, it was over. Yes, the other girls still had Arithmancy, but for me, school had officially finished. It was the strangest feeling, because it had been my whole life, particularly considering I’d been living at the school for the past seven years, but this was it.

“I can’t really get my head around it,” I said to Sirius as we relaxed in the common room after dinner that night, free of cares and responsibilities for the first time. “Not having to do anything. It’s weird.”

“That it is,” he said. “But I think I could get used to it, don’t you?”

I grinned at him. “It sounds like you’ve got something in mind. Do I want to know?”

He smiled back. “Well,” he began, drawing the word out to be as long as possible, “it did occur to me, that since you’re finished, and Lily’s not, then the Shack might be free tonight …”

I laughed. “Is the Cloak included in this package? Does James know?”

He nodded, his grin widening. “Yep, Cloak and all. So, what do you say?”

I pretended to think about it. “Well, I’m an adult, I’m qualified – assuming I didn’t fail, which I’m pretty sure I didn’t – and I am now entitled to make my own decisions.” I smiled again. “In other words, when do we leave?”

 


	58. Distractions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final formalities for seventh year occur as Laura takes her spot in the graduating class of 1978. And then tries to work out how to tell her parents about Sirius ...

The seventh-year students had a prize giving ceremony on the day before we were due to leave Hogwarts for the last time, and just about everyone’s parents – and some siblings – had made the journey north to attend. (Okay, for some people it might have been south, east or west, but for almost all Hogwarts students the school was north of where they lived.) We were all dressed up in our cleanest school robes, complete with matching hats, and those in positions of authority had polished their badges until they gleamed.

The ceremony was due to begin after lunch and we all spent the morning in a state of mild nervousness combined with a bit of trepidation and apprehension, partly due to the ceremony and partly because we had suddenly realised this was It. The end. No more Hogwarts, no more study (unless you became a Healer or an Auror), and quite possibly no more seeing people we’d seen pretty much every day for the past seven years. Unless we made a point of catching up with each other, or got jobs where our paths crossed, there were people we had known rather well who we may never see again. We suddenly realised this was actually rather significant and a mild feeling of tension pervaded the atmosphere.

I had to admit, part of me was thrilled I would be leaving. I had no qualms whatsoever about never seeing Elvira again, or Severus Snape, or Scylla Pritchard. My fellow Gryffindors, yes, I did want to see them (and I was sure I would), but just about everyone else, I’m ashamed to say, could disappear from my life without any regrets on my part.

Once lunch was over the Great Hall was cleared and we were told to wait in the Entrance Hall for the tables to be removed and new seating put in. Sirius and I kept close together, realising we were about to be separated from each other for the afternoon and wanting that to happen as late as was humanly possible. The closer it got to two o’clock, which was when people were expected to start arriving, the more we held each other, almost in defiance of the coming ceremony.

“Now remember,” I said, though I didn’t let go of him, “we have to keep a low profile today, at least till after the ceremony. If we’re going to have long explanations with my parents, I’d prefer not to be rushed for time.”

He made a face. “Do we have to?”

“Please? Just another couple of hours, tops. Then I’ll tell them, okay?”

“I suppose,” he said. “And you have to promise I’ll see you over the summer. As often as possible.”

I smiled. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“I do worry about you,” he said. “Going back to Bristol. You might not be safe.”

I smiled again – keeping me safe after going home was his latest crusade. He seemed to think that unless I was in his direct line of sight at all times I would somehow be more at risk, particularly with my blood traitor father and Muggle mother. I had said he was just as much of a blood traitor as my dad was, but he was convinced he was better equipped to look after me.

“I’ll be just as safe there as I would be anywhere else,” I said. “And I can look after myself. After all, I was taught by the best!”

“It’s not enough. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

I gave him a look. “And just how do you propose we manage that?”

“Well, the first thing would be for you to not go anywhere you might need to fight. Stay away from the Death Eaters.”

I shook my head. “While you go out risking your life every day? What am I supposed to do, just sit at home and wait for you on the off chance you survive and make it back?” I frowned at him: the way it was going I wouldn’t even be allowed to go out to get milk. “I’ve told you, I want to fight. I want to be right up there next to you. If you wanted a nice submissive girl who’s just going to follow orders, you shouldn’t have picked me. You know I’m not like that.”

He paused, thinking about it. “No, you’re not. But I do want you to be safe. I don’t think I could live without you.”

“There’s a war on. No one’s safe. But I’ll do my best. And the same goes for you, by the way; you’re not allowed to get yourself killed either. Do you seriously think it’d be any easier for me to live without you?” I shuddered involuntarily – life without Sirius just didn’t bear thinking about. “You can’t have it both ways, you know that. You can’t teach me how to fight and then tell me I’m not allowed to do it.”

His face fell. “You’re still being stubborn about this, aren’t you?”

“Absolutely. But you knew that anyway. I’m not going to just sit back and let the bad stuff happen to everyone else.”

“All right then, move in with me,” he said, very seriously. “I’ll be able to protect you then, and there’s the added benefit of you always being around.” A grin flitted across his face.

I laughed despite myself. “Last of the true romantics, aren’t you, Sirius?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re asking me to move in but you’re not saying, ‘I love you, I can’t stomach being apart from you and I want you to be the first thing I see when I wake up in the morning and the last thing that I see before I go to sleep at night’. No, it’s ‘move in so you don’t get killed’. Really smooth.” I smiled broadly.

He looked a little taken aback. “But you know that’s all true anyway. It goes without saying.” He paused, smiling again. “How about, move in so all that stuff you said goes on for as long as possible.”

I looked at him, thinking about it. I was sorely tempted – always being with him would be like a dream come true – but I knew my parents would have a fit. Besides, I couldn’t contribute financially and I wouldn’t be comfortable with that. “I think we should wait until I get a job. I can’t afford to leave home yet.”

“I’ll look after you,” he said immediately. “I can afford it.”

I realised suddenly I didn’t even know if that was true. I’d never asked him how much he’d inherited from his uncle and he’d never mentioned an amount. It wasn’t important enough to me to ask: that is, it was important he was able to provide for himself, but whether or not he was what you might call rich was never a consideration in how I felt about him. Obviously it had been a tidy sum – he could pay a year’s rent in advance and various bills – but I had no idea how long it would last.

“You know how you felt when you were living at James’ place?” I asked. “That’s how I’d feel. I’d need to be able to pay my own way.”

“I guess.” He looked disappointed.

“Besides, are you sure you’d want all my face creams and hair potions cluttering up that tiny bathroom of yours?”

He nodded, the ghost of a smile almost visible on the corners of his mouth. “You’re right, that’s a big consideration. I think I could only accept it on one condition.”

“And what’s that?”

“That you’re there with them.” His eyes were sparkling again, and I smiled and put my arms around his neck so I could kiss him.

We were interrupted by the noise of people outside, and broke apart abruptly in case my parents were among them. After all, the front doors of the castle were open so we could potentially be seen. Most of our classmates were in a group not far away and we hurried to join them, soon becoming part of a group of eight who to all intents and purposes appeared to be just friends.

I had been right to be concerned, as Mum and Dad were indeed part of the original influx of parents now swarming into the Entrance Hall. I hurried over to them, hoping they hadn’t seen anything untoward, and to my great relief there was no indication from either of them that they had.

“How’s it going, sweetheart?” Dad asked. “Relieved it’s all over?”

I wasn’t sure about that, as it meant I wouldn’t be able to see Sirius every day, which I was anticipating would be even more of a job to cope with than it had been at Easter. “Yeah, I am,” I said in what I hoped was a convincing voice, deciding to evade the question rather than outright lying. “If I never have to sit another exam that’ll be fine with me.”

I cast a look over at where my friends had been gathered, and noticed many of them had dispersed as various parents arrived. Through the crowd I could see Lily’s distinctive auburn hair, talking to her father and a woman I supposed was her mother, the scarf on her head presumably to hide her hair loss from the chemotherapy she was undergoing. Lily’s sister Petunia, who I’d heard so much about and had wanted to see, was nowhere in sight.

Not far off were James and Sirius, who were both with Mrs Potter, though neither of them seemed to be paying her much attention – James’ eyes followed the back of Lily’s head, and Sirius kept catching my eye as he watched me with my parents. I hoped my cheeks weren’t as red as they felt as I tried to turn my attention back to Mum and Dad, who were asking something about career options.

“Have you thought about what you want to do?” Dad asked.

“Law enforcement,” I said, forcing myself to concentrate on their conversation. “Something that involves getting rid of Death Eaters – I want to help win this war.”

Dad started – he hadn’t realised how determined I was about this. “Are you sure?”

I nodded stubbornly. “Mary _died_. We need to make sure it doesn’t happen to anyone else.”

“I thought you might be like this,” Mum said. “There were hints in your letters all term. Do you think you’ll get the marks?”

“Not sure. Though I’m pretty confident I did fairly well. Or, as well as I could, considering.” I looked at my left arm, which still bore the scars from Snape’s curse.

She nodded. “Should we be looking for you among the prizes?”

I shook my head. “I doubt it. I got better, but I don’t think I’d have topped the year in anything.” I could guess who did for many of the subjects, but I wasn’t going to go into that – even mentioning Sirius’ name to my parents could end up being a minefield.

“Not to worry,” she said. “I’m sure you did very well in any case.”

Just then Professor McGonagall got everyone’s attention and called the families into the Great Hall, which had been set up in a theatre-type style for the occasion. Mum gave me a quick hug and they both trailed off through the doors, leaving the Entrance Hall much emptier as the forty or so seventh-years again found ourselves alone, almost trembling in anticipation of the coming ceremony.

I soon felt Sirius’ arms around me again as we moved to group up in vague alphabetical order, with Lily and James at the helm. Eventually by necessity he let go and I counted five people between us, ruing the fact we weren’t grouped by House so I could be next to him. People kept adjusting their robes and hats, trying to make sure everything looked right, and more than one person (not just the girls) had mirrors out as they tried to style their hair. I found myself put between Greta Catchlove and Gertie Cresswell, Greta eyeing me malevolently and playing with her wand. I did have to feel a bit sorry for her, with me on one side and Alecto Carrow on the other, but if she jinxed me I wasn’t going to take it lying down.

“Try one thing and you’ll end up with a pumpkin for a head, earthworms for hair and you’ll be honking like a goose for the rest of the day,” I hissed out of the corner of my mouth. After all, why stop at one jinx when you can combine three? Greta blanched a little and threw me a filthy look but obediently put her wand away, influenced no doubt as well by the harsh glare Professor McGonagall was giving us.

Eventually we were filed into the Great Hall in alphabetical order and directed to the first four rows of seats, and I was gratified to discover that with James and Lily at the lead as Head Boy and Girl, I was the eleventh student and therefore put on the row behind Greta, meaning I was unlikely to fall victim to any errant hexes, from her wand at least. Of course, I was also directly behind James, which meant my view of proceedings was somewhat obstructed, but at least I could lean forwards and talk to him and Lily while we were waiting. Lily was sitting on one side of her seat more than the other, towards James and away from Charon Avery, and I noticed she and James were holding hands, their arms dropped towards the floor between their chairs so no one would see. Looking around, I noticed the seat directly behind me, next to Leda Minchum, was left empty; that was obviously where Mary would have sat if she’d still been with us. I smiled grimly, wondering if, wherever she was, she knew what was happening here today. Her mum would have been so proud.

Eventually, after what seemed an endless wait, Professor Dumbledore entered the hall and stood on the raised area at the end of the room that the High Table usually occupied.

“Good afternoon,” he said. The chatter in the room stopped abruptly and everyone looked expectantly at him. “Thank you all for coming,” he went on. “I realise it is not always possible to have time off work or other duties to attend family events, especially in the current climate.”

He paused, and there was a bit of movement behind me, like people were fidgeting and indeed did need to get back to work, or to wherever they had left in order to get to the ceremony. I fought the urge to turn my head to try to see if my parents were among them.

“We are here today,” Dumbledore said, once again effectively silencing the crowd, “to say farewell to our seventh-years. They have been part of Hogwarts since they were eleven years old and have made their own impact on the school. And, of course, they will be missed.

“I must pause here, though,” the Headmaster went on, “to mention one person who is NOT present here today. Who was taken from us only weeks ago in the most tragic manner. I refer, of course, to Mary Macdonald.”

The empty chair behind me started to glow, and everyone turned to look at it. It was so stark, so sad, that I felt another tear come to my eye.

“Mary Macdonald and her family were murdered by Death Eaters at the end of the Easter holidays,” Professor Dumbledore said. “She was to have taken her place among us today, but she was never given the opportunity. I would like to propose a minute’s silence to honour her memory.”

The silence in the hall was deafening, and I was pleased to notice even Slytherins like Charon Avery were observing it. Then again, perhaps the fact he was sitting on the front row, right in front of the Headmaster and next to the Head Girl, who had shared a dorm with Mary, was enough to stay his tongue, and I shouldn’t have been reading too much into it.

“Mary’s absence,” the Headmaster continued after the minute was up, “is a stark reminder that we are in the midst of a war. It grieves me to be sending these students out to live in a world like this, but I hope their years of study at this school have adequately prepared them for it. Some of the graduating students here today are as talented as any I have seen in all my years of teaching, but it is my wish that they could be returning to a life of peace and tranquillity instead of what they will in fact be facing.”

 _Thanks_ , I thought. _Great way to make us feel good about leaving here_. I recognised he did have a point, but I would have liked to be in a good mood for the ceremony.

“Of course,” Dumbledore went on, “this does not detract from the significant achievement of those students who are here today. You have borne seven years of trials and tribulations of all kinds, have completed seven years of study with honours, and have grown from naïve, eager eleven year olds to the qualified adults you are today. The school has gone on this long and wonderful journey with you and we sincerely wish you all the best in whatever you choose to make of your lives. You have finished the first stage of life. What comes next is up to you.” He looked at us over his half-moon glasses and smiled. “Congratulations again to all our departing seventh-years. This school is the richer for your presence.”

Well, that was short, sharp and to the point. You could say what you liked about our Headmaster, but he didn’t waste time on long speeches. Instead he waited for the applause to subside and then advised he would be announcing the awards for each subject. These were variously described as medals or prizes but were actually just certificates, saying the winner had scored the highest cumulative marks during the school year. Of course they couldn’t be based on our exam results but they were certainly an indicator of how people had gone and held a reasonable amount of kudos for the winner.

“To begin the proceedings,” the Headmaster said, his voice carrying effortlessly across the room, “I am pleased to announce that, for Ancient Runes, the special commendation goes to Mr Hector Bole. And that means the prize will be awarded to – Miss Elvira Vablatsky, from Ravenclaw.”

The hall broke into applause and Elvira gloated as she made her way to the platform to collect her scroll, beaming at Sirius as she walked past him off the stage and even rather brazenly blowing him a kiss. I wasn’t in the least concerned – we all knew what he thought of her.

Arithmancy, Astronomy and Care of Magical Creatures were announced and awarded without my paying much attention. The first name of any real interest to me came with the Charms prize, which to no one’s surprise went to Greta Catchlove (not the interesting part), with second place going to Lily, who must have only just pipped Sirius for the award. She was in front of me but I could see her cheeks go rather pink as Dumbledore read her name out and James gave her a tender smile.

“For Defence Against the Dark Arts,” Professor Dumbledore continued as Greta sat down amid the requisite applause, “this year’s special commendation goes to Mr James Potter, who I believe in any other year would have claimed the prize without question. But instead it has been won very narrowly by – Mr Sirius Black, of Gryffindor.”

The only question here had been which of those two got the prize and which the commendation, as they were so close to each other on ability it could have gone either way. I was, however, thrilled for Sirius and glowed with pride as he sauntered onto the platform to get his scroll from Dumbledore and, if my eyes didn’t deceive me, have a bit of a joke with him while he was up there.

Next was Divination, which again I paid little attention to once it became obvious neither Charlotte nor Peter would be taking out a prize. (It ended up going to Elsie Barkwith from Slytherin.) But after that came Herbology.

“For this subject,” Dumbledore said as the applause for Elsie died down, “the special commendation is awarded to Miss Laura Cauldwell.”

I almost fell off my chair in shock. Me? I was second in the school in Herbology? I mean, I knew I enjoyed it, but this definitely astonished me, albeit pleasantly. Sirius turned around in his chair and beamed at me, distracting me enough to miss Dumbledore announcing the actual winner of the prize. Not that it mattered – that was a fait accompli anyway – and I wasn’t surprised in the least to see Tilden Toots from Hufflepuff on the platform collecting his scroll.

Sirius got one over James for Muggle Studies as well, and I watched proudly again as he wandered gracefully onto the stage, hands in his pockets, to take the scroll from the Headmaster. He winked at me as he came off the platform and then grinned triumphantly at James, and part of me wondered how our Head Boy would take it if he got pipped for the Transfiguration prize too.

But before we got to that there was Potions. “The special commendation,” Professor Dumbledore said, “is awarded to Miss Lily Evans. And the prize has been won by – Mr Severus Snape, from Slytherin.” Even with just about everyone in the Great Hall applauding him, Snape still managed to ooze bitterness and resentment as he went to get his certificate, glowering at James and Sirius as he went past them. He never had got over Lily choosing James instead of him. Lily didn’t move as he was on the stage, not even applauding him, and remained motionless, staring ahead of her, as he walked past her on his way back to his seat.

“And finally,” Dumbledore said, “we come to Transfiguration.” On the row in front of me I could see both James and Sirius sit up a little straighter, clearly expecting their names to be called out. And that was probably fair enough, of course, as to have perfected the Animagus transformation while still at school was probably a fair indication of their abilities. “The special commendation goes to Mr Sirius Black. And that means the prize will be awarded to – Mr James Potter, from Gryffindor.”

James was obviously relieved he’d got one of them, and I suspected that Transfiguration was the one he’d really wanted considering the whole Animagus thing had been his idea. Lily was beaming and James flashed her a brilliant smile from the platform, where he too was sharing a joke with the Headmaster.

Finally the formalities were over and a parchment containing a list of all graduating students, as well as the prize winners, appeared on each chair for our families to take home as a souvenir. Soon enough Professor Dumbledore had Vanished the wooden chairs that had filled the room, leaving it a large empty space for everyone to catch up in. The House tables soon reappeared, this time lining the walls and covered in different drinks and finger foods, and everyone gathered around in small groups as students found their families once again.

The Gryffindors stayed in a large group initially, but eventually we all drifted off as our parents came to find us, Sirius giving my hand a subtle squeeze even as Mum and Dad led me off to somewhere with a bit more space.

I gave them my scroll and listened while Dad talked proudly about my special commendation for Herbology, obviously convinced it was his directive about no distractions that had earned me the award. Well, if he wanted to believe that I wasn’t about to enlighten him. Now that it came to it, if I was honest with myself, I was dreading the inevitable conversation about Sirius, and wondered if I could put it off till I got home the next day. I really didn’t fancy justifying myself to Dad in the middle of the Great Hall like that, in full view of the rest of seventh year. If I could do it in private, it would be that much easier.

My musings were interrupted by Mum, who was still talking about the ceremony. “I thought you’d said you weren’t going to get any awards,” she said with distinct pride in her voice.

“I didn’t,” I said, trying again to concentrate on what she was saying. “Tilden Toots got the gong. I just came in second.”

“It’s still very impressive,” said Dad. “Second in the school in Herbology. You even did better than Beatrice!”

I grinned. “Don’t tell her that, though. I rather fancy the thought of not getting jinxed. Merlin only knows what she’s come up with over the past year or so.”

Suddenly Dad spied someone he knew in the crowd. “Nice thing about days like this is you can corner people who have been avoiding you at work. And there’s Lionel Bole.” He smiled wryly. “Hasn’t been returning my owls, and I have to talk to him about that werewolf attack in Hampshire on Tuesday night. Excuse me a minute, won’t you?”

As I watched him push past Sirius on his way to Hector’s dad, I noticed Mum was eyeing me shrewdly and had settled her index finger on one name in the list of graduating students. “Now that he’s gone, Laura,” she said, “answer this for me. How long have you been going out with Sirius Black?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thanks to Sian/nott theodore at HPFF/HPFT for looking over this chapter for me. :)


	59. The final journey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laura is forced to confess all about Sirius (well, most, at least) before saying goodbye to Hogwarts for the last time.

I froze. Had we been that obvious, that Mum had worked out about Sirius and me? “I’m not,” I protested, knowing my cheeks had gone scarlet. “I’m not allowed, remember?”

“That’s your father’s rule, not mine. Don’t lie, Laura, it doesn’t become you.”

My face fell. “How did you know?”

“Do you forget how well I know you? He hasn’t taken his eyes off you all afternoon, and you’ve been watching him so much you’re not listening to what we’ve been saying. You’ve been grinning like a maniac all day. And, to cap it off, I saw you kissing when we arrived.”

Rats. So much for keeping a low profile. “Six months,” I said finally. “Since just before Christmas.”

She appeared to be thinking hard, then her face cleared. “And you had a fight at that party, didn’t you,” she said. It wasn’t even a question. “That was why you were so happy beforehand and so upset afterwards. But then you made it up?”

I sighed. “Yes, you’re right, of course. We fought, and then we made up. But you understand why I couldn’t tell you, don’t you?”

She nodded. “I wish you had, though. I might have been able to help. He’s a good looking boy. Smart, too, if those prizes were anything to go by.” Her face suddenly went serious. “I suppose that’s where you were at Easter, too, wasn’t it? When you weren’t at Mary’s?”

I nodded. “It saved my life. Not being at Mary’s.”

“And Bev Macdonald thought you were safe, God rest her soul,” she mused. “She didn’t trust easily, either.”

I smiled bitterly. “I _was_ safe, as it turned out. Safer than if I’d been at Mary’s.”

Dad had finished his conversation and had clearly overheard that last bit. “What about Mary?” he asked. “What have I missed?”

“I’ve found out where Laura was at Easter, when the Macdonalds were attacked,” Mum said. So that was how she was going to approach this, I realised, wondering how Dad would take it.

“Really?” Dad asked. “Where?”

“With that tall dark boy over there,” Mum said. “They’ve been dating since Christmas.”

_Right. Say it all at once, why don’t you_. I braced myself, ready for whatever Dad might throw at me. Figuratively speaking, of course.

His ears went red. “They’ve WHAT? Since _Christmas_? Laura, I thought you were more sensible than that.” He had managed to control his anger but his disappointment was clear. I wasn’t sure which was worse.

I took a breath, working out how best to defend myself. In the end, teenaged belligerence won out, perhaps against my better judgement. “It was my decision,” I said. “And I did _bloody_ well in my exams, thank you very much. Second in the school in Herbology, remember?”

Dad looked like he still wanted to bluster but had no answer to that, instead forcing himself to calm down a little.

“I knew that whole thing at Easter was about a boy,” Mum said, a reminiscent smile on her face as she ignored Dad’s discomfort. “You were far too happy for it to have been anything else, and it was the sort of thing Bev Macdonald would have agreed to. And you panicked when I suggested you not come back to school.”

I smiled suddenly. “You know what, Mum? I think you are WAY too good at your job. I can’t keep anything from you, can I?”

“Believe it or not, I can remember what it was like to be your age.”

Dad had now become all business-like and, well, fatherly. “Well? Which one is he? Is he good enough for you?”

Mum pointed him out again, where he was standing with James, Lily and James’ mum, and trying not to make it obvious he was watching us. “His name’s Sirius Black,” she said.

Dad went absolutely still, the colour draining from his face. “Black? _BLACK_?? Laura, are you _out of your mind_?”

“Dad, he’s a Gryffindor Black. He’s not like that. Really.”

He looked at me doubtfully. “Since when has a Black ever been in Gryffindor?”

“Since Sirius,” I said. “Look, it’s okay, he’s a good person.” And I grabbed the class list from Mum and pointed to Sirius’ name, which definitely had ‘Gryffindor’ written next to it. Several times, in fact, as he was listed not only as a graduating student but also three times on the honours roll.

Mum was looking confused. “I’ll explain later,” Dad muttered.

She looked at me again as I gave her back the parchment. “Well, he obviously makes you happy. Is he kind? Does he make you laugh? Is he good to you?”

”Yes, yes and yes,” I said, relieved. “Absolutely.” This was going much better than I had anticipated.

“Does he treat you well?” asked Dad, looking very serious.

“Of course,” I said. “Do you honestly think I’d stay with someone who didn’t treat me well?”

He took longer to answer than I would have liked. “A year or two ago, Laura, I’d have said yes. I wasn’t sure that Bertram treated you well. But you’ve grown up.” He looked at me steadily. “No, I don’t think you would.”

I smiled. This really was acceptance. Dad was willing to trust my judgement on this, which could only be a good thing.

“Well,” Mum said, “he looks like a lovely boy, and he clearly has excellent taste in girls. So are we going to meet him? When were you planning on introducing us?”

I hesitated. “Did you want me to do that now?”

“Why not? Unless there’s something else you’re not telling us,” said Dad.

I shook my head, unsure why I was so nervous about this. “Please give him a chance,” I said. “I really want you to like him.”

Dad smiled. “I’ll do my best, sweetheart.”

I went to get Sirius, who had seen me coming and moved away from the Potters. “The game’s up,” I said, grabbing his hand. “Not only do they know, but I suspect my mum wants to adopt you.”

He grinned. “Better and better. I knew you had to come from good stock.”

I brought him over and, still holding his hand, introduced him to my parents, who he graciously addressed as Mr and Mrs Cauldwell even though Mum tried to insist he use their first names. He was probably wise in doing so, however: Dad kept looking at him suspiciously, as though expecting him to treat my mother badly because she was a Muggle. Not even a Muggle-born, but an actual Muggle.

Not only suspicious about Sirius’ attitudes but also his motives, Dad was determined to give him the third degree, which he started almost as soon as the introductions were over. It made the whole thing horribly awkward and I cringed as the conversation went on around me. “So you’re fond of Laura here?” he began.

“Absolutely, sir,” Sirius said. “She’s everything to me. I don’t know what I’d do without her.”

“And can you protect her? There’s a war going on, you know, and I’d prefer it if my daughter wasn’t a casualty of it.”

“So would I. I’d do anything to keep her safe. Why do you think I tried so hard in Defence this year?” He smiled and squeezed my hand. “They’d have to kill me first if they wanted to get to her.”

Dad was obviously sceptical. “Are you saying you’d volunteer to take an Unforgivable if it meant it would save Laura?”

Sirius looked surprised, as though that went without saying. “Of course I would. _Cruciatus_ , _Avada Kedavra_ , anything. She’s far more valuable than I am.”

I gasped with astonishment – that was a pretty big thing to say. And his face was absolutely sincere, without a hint of arrogance of haughtiness, so he definitely meant what he was saying. Dad looked taken aback.

“That’s a big claim. How can I be sure you mean it?”

Mum interrupted. “He means it,” she said, indicating me. “Laura believes him. That should be good enough for us.”

Eventually the third degree was over and Sirius appeared to have got through it reasonably well – even Dad seemed struck by him. Whether he liked him, I wasn’t sure, but he was at least convinced Sirius wasn’t a regular Black and he cared about me. Which, I reflected, was quite a good start. However, after a while Dad hinted he wanted to talk to me alone so Sirius made a gracious departure and went back to the Potters.

Dad watched him go, an odd expression on his face. “You know, if I didn’t know he was a Black I’d never have credited it. I mean, he looks like one, but I knew both Orion Black and Cygnus Black and they were nothing like him.” He paused a little. “Do you know which side of the family he’s from?”

“His middle name’s Orion, so I’d assume that’s his dad,” I said, suppressing a smile as I remembered Sirius complaining about being given the initials SOB. “And he said once his parents were second cousins, so he could be from Cygnus’ side as well. He doesn’t talk about it much though.”

“Sounds like the Blacks,” Dad said rather bitterly. “Keeping it in the family to make sure no ‘impure’ blood gets in. Well, you’d never know it from talking to him.”

“Probably because he doesn’t see them any more,” I said. “They can’t be a bad influence if he never talks to them.”

Dad looked surprised. “He doesn’t?”

I shook my head. “You didn’t notice they’re not here? He ran away from home halfway through fifth year because he couldn’t stomach being around them any more. So they’ve disowned him. If you were hoping I might get my hands on the Black fortune, you’re going to be sorely disappointed.” I grinned despite myself.

Dad snapped his fingers in mock disappointment. “And I’d thought you were on a winner. Damn it.”

Mum was looking confused. “But does all that mean he’s got nowhere to live?”

“No, he inherited some gold last year from a wayward uncle,” I said, catching Sirius’ eye and smiling reassuringly. He had looked a bit worried he’d not been approved of, but this was actually going rather well. “He’d been living with James until then – James Potter, that is – but now he’s got his own place.”

Dad looked curious, something having obviously clicked in his mind. “James Potter? As in, Head Boy James Potter?” He looked impressed.

“Yep, him,” I said. “He and Sirius are like brothers. Why?”

Mum was looking at the awards sheet. “James Potter who got two special commendations and one prize today?”

“Well,” I said, “there’s only one James Potter at Hogwarts, so yes, that would be him.”

“The one whose house you went to for that party at Christmas time.”

I blushed. “Yes. Anyway, Sirius lived with James until he could afford to move out. So no, Dad, he doesn’t see his family any more.”

Mum frowned a bit at this. “So, you’re saying he lives alone, with no parental supervision?”

“He’s eighteen and a half, does he really need it?” I asked with a touch of exasperation. “Besides, Mrs Potter keeps an eye on him, whether he wants her to or not.”

To my surprise Dad interjected on Sirius’ behalf. “I think it’s better having no supervision than having Orion Black telling you what to do,” he said with a vehemence I hadn’t expected. “And apparently _he_ was one of the better ones.”

I smiled – it was getting increasingly obvious I had more than half the battle won. “Does that mean you approve of him?”

Dad hesitated. “From one meeting I’d say he seems all right,” he said finally, and I allowed myself to relax. This might work out after all.

****

“How did the meet-the-parents go?” Charlotte asked me that night as we prepared for the Leaving Feast.

“Seemed to be okay,” I said. “Awkward, obviously, but okay. Mum guessed – which I should have figured she would – and me getting that commendation for Herbology really helped my argument. In any case, Dad didn’t curse him back to London, or even look like he wanted to, so that’s got to be a good start, doesn’t it?”

“Better than nothing,” Lily said. “He was so nervous, though, it was hilarious.”

I stared at her. “Really? I didn’t notice that.”

“Well, you were that bloody nervous too, I’m not surprised,” Martha said with a giggle.

“I guess it had to happen sometime,” I said. “Pity there’s almost no way you can make it easy.”

“You’ve got it easy,” Martha said. “You never need to meet his folks.”

I sighed. “I know. But, you know what? Sometimes I wish I did. It must be hard for him.”

“Well, I met Remus’ dad,” Charlotte said. We all whirled around to face her.

“You did?” Lily asked, her face lighting up. “That’s fantastic! How’d it go?”

Charlotte shrugged. “Not really sure. I was only introduced as a friend.”

I looked at Lily and sighed. It seemed Remus would _never_ allow Charlotte to get close to him. Looking around for something to change the subject, which it seemed Charlotte would appreciate, I indicated Mary’s wall.

“What are we going to do about this?” I asked. “We can’t just leave her here.”

“I spoke to Dumbledore,” Lily said, accepting the subject change and looking up at the photographs and other memorabilia. “He said to take what we want from it now and leave the rest here, and the school will put it in the Memorial once we’re gone.”

Of course. The Memorial was a room on the ground floor, set aside to honour former students who had died while attending Hogwarts. I’d never been in there – it felt too creepy, to be honest – but it was the most appropriate place for our tribute.

“She would have liked that,” I said. “Part of her always being here. Like her mum had those trophies, you know?”

Charlotte paused. “But we can take stuff from it now, can’t we?”

“Absolutely,” Lily said. “They’re our memories of Mary. Of course we can take them with us.”

I walked over and pulled off my favourite photo of her, taken between fourth and fifth years as she struggled to control the broom she’d got for her birthday. “I’ve always loved this one. She hated it, but that was because she fell off the broom straight afterwards. It’s a lovely photo, though.”

“I want the flag,” Martha said. “The Scottish one. If anything says ‘Mary’ to me, it’s that.”

We spent a good half hour going through what was on the wall, sharing memories as we pulled things off and put them with our own trunks. It was final, yes, but it felt right. Then, suddenly, I paused. “We’ve forgotten someone.”

“Who?” Charlotte asked.

“Sebastian. We need to give some of these things to him.”

Lily looked horrified. “How could we have forgotten Sebastian? That’s awful. Yes, we have to give him some of these.”

****

The final event of the school year was a celebration party for the departing seventh-years, held in the Great Hall after the feast. This really was a time where we could let our hair down, and talk was that not only would alcohol be available, but the staff wouldn’t bother breaking apart snogging couples (unless they were getting _too_ carried away) or do anything else that would interfere with us having a good night. The theory behind this was, according to Lily and James, we were adults who were both qualified and of legal age, so aside from any illegal activity the staff didn’t have much authority over us anymore. Not that this was ever said explicitly, as some students might use it as an excuse for bad behaviour, but we understood the intention.

On arrival, before we did anything else, the other girls and I made a beeline for Sebastian, an envelope full of memories of Mary for him. “We thought you might like these,” Lily said, handing it over. “It’s not much, but at least it’s something.”

Sebastian, clearly confused, took the envelope and peered inside. “Thanks,” he muttered thickly, not lifting his head. Taking this to mean our presence was no longer welcome, we left him with his friends to grieve in private.

“I might go check on him later on,” Martha said, surprising me with her thoughtfulness. “He might want to talk to one of her friends, you know?”

I looked at her. “Now you’re making me feel guilty for not thinking of that first.”

She shook her head. “No. You’ve got Sirius, and Lily’s got James, and Charlotte, hopefully, has Remus. Go to your men. I’m happy to do the friend stuff.”

Still feeling guilty, I reluctantly complied with her instructions. After spending a while doing the social thing and having a quick chat with everyone I was even mildly friendly with, I found Sirius and we started making plans for the summer, punctuated regularly by a quick snog. Or, as time went on and we became less and less aware of those around us, a slightly longer snog as we made the most of the lack of staff intervention. Eventually we were interrupted by a voice saying, “Oi! Not in public, please!”

We pulled apart and turned to see James, camera in hand, beaming at us. “That’s it, you two, break it up. We need souvenirs of tonight and I’d prefer you to keep your hands to yourself in them please.”

Sirius put on his best ‘offended’ look. “What are you talking about, Prongs?” he asked, trying but failing to hide his grin. “Our hands were on their best behaviour!” Which for once was true – mine were around his neck and his were resting at the small of my back.

James chuckled. “If you say so, Padfoot.” He obviously wanted us to pose for a photo so I pulled one arm down and rested my hand on Sirius’ chest, smiling for the camera. James grinned as he took it. “That’s a nice one, I’ll get you a copy. Cheers.” And he moved away to find some more victims, telling another couple to break it up.

My gaze followed his progress. “Oh, look who it is,” I said, indicating with my head where James had gone. He had just interrupted Remus and Charlotte, doing just what Sirius and I had been doing prior to his arrival.

Sirius grinned. “Well, what do you know. I guess a farewell snog is better than no snog at all!”

“He must have told her,” I said. “I can’t see him doing it if she didn’t know. He gets so worked up about it.”

He considered that. “Maybe. Either way, I doubt we’ll see either of them again all night.”

Some time later Lily and James came to find us, their official duties for the evening obviously finished.

“How’s it going?” I asked.

Lily groaned. “We’ve only just managed to get rid of Slughorn. Keeps wanting to talk to us, you know, say farewell to his favourite students and recommend us to people he knows at the Ministry. The usual bollocks.”

James nodded. “You’re lucky to have steered clear of him so far, Padfoot.”

“All due to Laura,” Sirius said with a laugh. “Old Sluggy’s worked out not to come near us if he can’t remember her name.”

James laughed too. “Well done! And, speaking of Laura, we’ve got an offer for you.” He grinned broadly, though Lily was looking rather self-conscious.

“Do we want to know?” I asked.

“Oh, I’d say you do,” James said. “It’s the last night, our official duties are just about over, and we’re all going back to the real world tomorrow. Which means one last hurrah.”

Sirius was shaking his head. “I don’t know, Prongs, I hadn’t even thought of a final prank,” he began, but James interrupted him.

“Who said anything about pranks? No one’s thinking about that – even Moony’s got a better offer. No, I was talking about the Shrieking Shack.” He paused, smiling, as realisation dawned on our faces. “Now, I was going to take Lils down there, but she thought we should offer you two the option as well.”

Sirius chuckled. “You mean you’re not pulling rank as Head Boy?”

Lily shook her head, her cheeks rather pink. “We did consider that. But I wanted to be fair to you two, and because we can’t all use it at the same time I thought the best way out of it was if we toss you for it.” She fished in her pocket and pulled out a Galleon. “Heads, we get the Shack tonight. Tails, it’s yours. What do you think?”

Sirius was looking suspicious. “Can I see the Galleon first, to make sure it’s not a two-headed one?”

Lily laughed and handed it over, and Sirius and I both inspected it closely. It appeared legitimate.

“What’s the consolation prize?” I asked. “We don’t really have a fallback if the Shack’s not available.”

James pretended to consider. “There’s that rather roomy passageway behind the mirror on the fourth floor. Or maybe you can convince Moony and Wormtail to sleep in the common room. But that’s about all I can think of, sorry.”

I’d figured as much. It was the Shrieking Shack or, well, not at all. But a fifty percent chance of getting the Shack was better than no chance, and we of course agreed to the coin toss.

It fell on heads. Rats. Though, if I was fair, it did seem only right that the Head Boy and Girl should get first dibs on the Shack for their last night of school. James, though triumphant, was at least gracious in victory. “Sorry, Padfoot. But you can’t say you weren’t given the chance.”

“Have a good night.” I smiled at them and they wandered off, arms around each other, most probably about to make a subtle exit.

“Well,” said Sirius, facing me again and putting both arms around me, “now they’ve got me thinking. If we make sure Moony and Wormtail don’t go back to the dorm for at least another, say, couple of hours …”

“We’ll have a bit of time to ourselves before we get any company,” I finished for him. “I was thinking the same thing.”

Sirius went off to find Remus and Peter and I looked for Martha so I could let her know neither Lily nor I would be sleeping in our dorm that night.

“Let me guess, you’ve both had better offers?”

I nodded. “You could say that.”

“No problems. I’ll let Charlotte know. Though I might end up with a better offer myself …” She smiled mischievously.

I stared at her. “Is there something I don’t know?”

“Believe it or not, I’m really hitting it off with Bernie Carmichael. He’s an absolute sweetheart.”

Smiling at the idea of Martha and Bernie, I looked around for Sirius, but found Elvira instead. “You won’t hold onto him,” she hissed, grabbing my arm with surprising force. “Not once school’s out, there’ll be too many temptations for him to stick with the likes of you. You won’t last another month.”

Thankful she’d chosen my right arm and not my left, I thought of all the things I _could_ say to ramp up her jealousy even more. Eventually, though, I decided silence was the best policy, instead reaching into a pocket with my left hand and pulling out a small bag.

“Here’s some Floo powder, Elvira,” I said, dropping the sachet down her front. “Tell someone who cares.”

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re up to tonight,” she said, her grip on me tightening. “Leaving the party early. I’ll tell Dumbledore.”

This time I laughed. “And what do you think he’s going to do? Burst in so he can catch us? Goodness, Elvira, we’re both adults, it’s the last night, why in Merlin’s name would he care?”

We were interrupted by Sirius, looking rather like he would have liked to _Crucio_ Elvira, who still had my arm. “I thought I told you to stay away from Laura, Vablatsky. Do you want me to get my wand out?”

Elvira dropped my arm abruptly. “We were just having a friendly chat,” she said, her face switching from loathing to adulation as she looked at him.

“Really? It didn’t look too friendly from what I saw. But, if you’re done harassing my _girlfriend_ …” He stressed the last word for added emphasis.

I turned to him. “I’m ready. Shall we?” And he leaned in and kissed me deeply, probably for Elvira’s benefit, and we took off, arms around each other, towards the marble staircase and Gryffindor Tower.

****

I woke up in Sirius’ arms once again, revelling in the closeness it afforded us. Before long he too woke up and smiled at me as I leaned in to kiss him.

Outside the bed hangings we could hear the telltale sounds of people getting ready for the day ahead. Clothes were being pulled out of trunks and the door to the bathroom opened and closed regularly as Remus and Peter, and possibly James if he was back from the Shack, went about their morning routine. Eventually Remus’ voice called out to us.

“Wormtail and I are going down to breakfast now,” he said. “The dorm’s yours.”

After the door closed with its _Colloportus_ –inspired squelch, Sirius looked at me. “I guess we’d better get up,” he said, not releasing me from his hold.

“I guess we’d better,” I said, also not moving.

“Do you know what the time is?”

I fished under his pillow for my wand. “ _Accio_ clock,” I muttered, putting the wand back down as the clock soared between the curtains. “Half eight, or close enough to,” I said, peering at its face before dropping it to the floor. “We’ve got about two hours.”

“How long do you think we can get away with staying here?”

I thought about it. “Realistically? Maybe another half hour. But we’d miss breakfast.”

He grinned. “Why do you think I made friends with the house elves?”

“Considering how long you’ve been sneaking out food from the kitchens, I’m guessing it wasn’t for this,” I said, smiling as his hand traced my hip.

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe we were planning ahead.”

I kissed him again. “Or maybe you were just hungry.”

It was after nine o’clock when we finally got up, me hurriedly throwing on the previous night’s clothes before heading back to my own dorm so I could shower in the girls’ bathroom. I think I surprised some first or second-years when I came down the boys’ staircase looking decidedly bedraggled, but hey, it was the last day, what did I care?

There were still some remnants of breakfast in the Great Hall when we eventually got downstairs, so we finished those off and downed a cuppa or two before heading back to Gryffindor Tower to pack.

It was an emotional process, packing up seven years’ worth of memories, taking things off the walls and out of cabinets, clearing out the bathroom, digging around under beds for lost socks, stray Sickles and anything else that may be hiding there. This was it, we were never coming back, so we couldn’t rely on the house elves collecting everything we’d left behind and holding it for us the following term.

All four of us were in the dorm by now, Lily well back from the Shack. And it was just as well, as we were all needed to identify different items that were uncovered on top of the wardrobe, on the canopy of Charlotte’s bed, or in any number of previously unseen nooks and crannies around the room, that had ended up there at various times during the year.

Finally we were all finished, the four trunks sitting in the dorm packed and closed, the walls – aside from Mary’s – bare, the floor devoid of shoes, clothes or scrap bits of parchment. It looked odd, like it wasn’t really our dorm. Silently, reluctantly, we all looked around it one more time before going back down the stairs to the common room.

****

By ten-thirty all the seventh-years were outside the Entrance Hall, waiting for Hagrid to take us to the boats. It was a Hogwarts tradition, as much as the first-years arriving by boat when they got off the Hogwarts Express, that the seventh-years would get to the train that way for their final journey.

“Jus’ a warnin’,” Hagrid said as he led us down the stairs to the lake’s surface, “the boats will seem a bi’ smaller now.”

He wasn’t wrong. While four people had fit easily in first year, it was going to be a tight squeeze to get that many in one of the boats now. Fortunately there were more boats available for just this eventuality, and in the end we were arranged two to a boat for the trip back across the lake.

I shared my boat with Sirius, sitting in a loose embrace as it propelled itself along the water. Pushing through the wall of ivy, it took our eyes a little while to adjust to the bright sunshine on the other side, but the uncomfortable sensation soon passed and we enjoyed the short journey, laughing to ourselves as the giant squid almost overturned the boat Severus Snape shared with Charon Avery a little way ahead of us, and casting a quick smile at each other as we floated past the boathouse. Finally we arrived at Hogsmeade and, after Hagrid secured our boats once again, climbed out and onto the station platform.

The train ride itself was a little surreal. Lily and James, though still Head Girl and Boy, were reluctant to patrol the train or even address the prefects for very long, no doubt figuring it was their last journey and they didn’t really care what the younger students did. In fact, there was only one event on the journey that caused me any disquiet at all. Going with Sirius in search of an empty compartment, we heard Remus and Charlotte, in a compartment of their own, having a bit of a row. What I heard broke my heart.

“You know it’s impossible,” Remus was saying. “It can’t possibly work out. You have to realise that.”

“Says you,” Charlotte said. “I’m happy to try, but you won’t even give it a chance.”

“But what if I hurt you? There’s always that danger … I couldn’t live with myself.”

“Too late,” Charlotte said sadly. “You already have.”

I dragged Sirius away, out of earshot – we shouldn’t have overheard that. “I thought he’d got over it. I thought that with Charlotte being in our carriage today, he was okay with it.”

Sirius shook his head grimly. “I’m not surprised. He gets pretty uptight.”

“But poor Charlotte. I feel awful for her.”

“It’s not something we can do anything about,” he said, pulling me into an alcove at the end of the carriage. “But, if you want me to take your mind off it …” His finger traced my jawbone as he pulled me towards him with the other arm.

When we returned to our compartment, Charlotte and Remus appeared to have reached an uneasy truce, and we complied with their unspoken wish for it not to be mentioned. Eventually the landscape distracted us as it started changing from rural to urban, and we knew our last trip on the Hogwarts Express was almost over. Almost nostalgically we wandered down the train, looking in the compartments we’d used over the years, pulling Martha from the Ravenclaws’ compartment in the process as we laughed over what the younger students were doing.

Finally it was over as Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters came into view. We got off the train and Sirius found a couple of trolleys for our trunks, pushing through the crowd to find me again. The avalanche of students and their parents was, predictably, somewhat overwhelming.

We were more than halfway towards the gate, where my parents were waiting on the other side, when Sirius stopped suddenly and pulled me to one side, out of the way of the teeming hordes.

“This is it,” he said. “I don’t know when I’m going to see you again.”

“Day trips,” I said. “Maybe even tomorrow. Now my folks know about you I don’t have to make up excuses, I can even go to you.”

“And you can show me around Bristol. I didn’t see much of it the last couple of times I was there.”

“I don’t know,” I said, grinning at him. “You’ve seen the art gallery and the harbour, I’m not sure that there _is_ much else.”

“If you moved in to my place, we’d be together all the time,” he said almost plaintively. Once he got an idea into his head, it could be hard to dislodge. And for the life of him he couldn’t understand why my parents might possibly object to their youngest daughter, only just eighteen, moving halfway across the country to live with a boy they’d only just met.

“After I get a job. I’ll try to convince my folks. I promise.”

As we neared the barrier, Sirius suddenly tensed up and stopped in his tracks. Not far ahead were his brother Regulus with a couple in about their fifties, their dark hair flecked with grey, obviously Mr and Mrs Black. They were very good looking for their age but had the Black haughtiness and disdain etched onto their faces. I saw the woman’s eyes travel over her eldest son with no change of expression, as though he was unworthy of acknowledgment. Part of me wondered whether Regulus had told them about me and my Muggle blood, and whether if Sirius had been alone there might have been a different reaction. Or, really, any reaction. I supposed I would never know.

Sirius’ face was expressionless as he watched them, though his eyes were steely. “You know,” he said, “this could be the last time I ever see them.”

I grabbed his hand and squeezed it. “Did you want to talk to them?”

He shook his head. “Got nothing to say to them anymore,” I felt a tear form in the corner of my eye as I thought of what it would be like to have absolutely no relationship with your parents. I couldn’t imagine it, yet Sirius had had to live with that for years, and I marvelled inwardly at his strength. “Not even to Reg, it seems. Looks like he’s made his choice.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “Maybe you can make up some other time.”

He smiled grimly. “And maybe one day he’ll see sense.” He shook his head again. “Sorry, Laura, I shouldn’t let it get to me. He’s probably a signed-up Death Eater by now, or if he’s not he will be by the time summer’s out.” He paused again. “It’s just disappointing. He had so much promise.”

“I know,” I said, giving his hand another squeeze. “You did what you could.”

“Ancient history now anyway. Come on, let’s go find your folks.” He paused, turning to me. “Did you want me to hang back a bit once we go through?”

I smiled tersely. “They seemed to like you okay yesterday. I say come with me. They have to get used to you being around anyway, don’t they?”

He grinned. “No matter what?”

“Yes. I’m of age, I’m qualified, and I’m old enough to make my own decisions. And that includes you. So yes, they have to get used to you, no matter what.”

He squeezed my hand and, taking a deep breath, we walked together towards the barrier, Muggle London, and the rest of our lives.


	60. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three months later

The Healer went into the fourth floor waiting room of St Mungo’s. It was a Friday morning in mid September and the sun was shining brightly through the eastern windows. “Mr Black?” she asked, looking around. Two dark haired boys looked up, along with a pretty auburn haired girl who was holding hands with one of them. The other one got to his feet.

“Healer Kirke? I came as soon as I got your message.”

She flicked through her notes, slightly flustered, and then looked at the young man standing in front of her. He was tall – over six feet – and looked just like the picture they’d found: very good looking, though with a somewhat arrogant air. “It took a long time to find you, we’ve been trying to get hold of you for days,” she said. “Your family didn’t know where you were …” The boy’s face hardened slightly, and she indicated he should follow her. The couple who were with him got up as well, so she nodded to them.

She decided not to go into detail about her correspondence with the boy’s family. How she had just the name, Sirius Black, to go on, and so had written to the Black family in London looking for him. They were all named after stars or constellations, he had to be related. How she had received a response from Walburga Black, spewing vitriol and denying knowledge of any such person. How an hour or so later another owl had arrived, this time from the boy’s brother, explaining Sirius did exist but had been disowned by his family for ‘conduct unbecoming of the family name’. Well, she knew enough about the Blacks to guess what _that_ meant: she would wager anything the girl wasn’t a pure-blood. She didn’t mention any of this, though – if this boy had written the letter they’d found in the girl’s pocket, he would be going through enough in a minute or so without her bringing a family feud into the mix.

She continued her narrative as though she hadn’t seen his reaction. “So we just sent off an owl with your name attached, hoping it would find you. Fortunately it looks like it did.” She smiled grimly. She hated this part of the job, and it was happening more and more often these days. And they were so young! The girl’s records said she was only eighteen, and if this boy was any older than that, it wasn’t by much.

The young couple were following at a short distance behind them, obviously wanting to be near their friend but trying not to intrude on whatever was going to happen here.

“It’s about Miss Cauldwell,” she said after a pause, flicking back through her papers again. “Laura Cauldwell,” she clarified, having found the page. The boy had stopped dead at the name, his face pale but unreadable.

“What’s happened to her?” he asked, plainly forcing himself to go on.

“Well, that’s the problem. We don’t exactly know. We do know that she was with her sister, and they were attacked by – by Death Eaters. Possibly targeted, I don’t know.” She entered a ward and stopped outside a pulled curtain. “She was hit by a curse … well, you’d better see for yourself, I think.”

She pulled open the curtain, trying to ignore the shock and confusion now obvious on the boy’s face. He saw the motionless figure inside and stopped. “She’s not … she’s not …” He couldn’t finish the sentence, couldn’t say the word.

“No, she’s not dead,” she said. “Not in body, anyway. You can see where the curse hit her” – indicating a large bruise that went from the girl’s forehead to her chin, skirting around the right side of her face – “but we don’t know which curse it was. Or curses, as there could have been more than one. She was already like this by the time the Aurors got there.” She paused. “It seems she Stunned a couple of Death Eaters before she got hit, if it’s any consolation. Took them out, cast a Shield Charm over her sister, then got hit herself.” The boy nodded silently, his grey eyes on the ugly bruise on the girl’s face. “We’ve had all sorts of curse specialists through,” she added, “but no one has been able to match the bruising with the other symptoms.”

She had moved over to let the three young people in, the other boy and the girl still hanging back a little to give their friend space.

“What other symptoms?” The boy looked a little hopeful there was more to it. She hated to crush him like that.

“We – we can’t find any evidence of brain activity,” she said, not wanting to look at him as she said it. “I’m so sorry.”

“No.” The boy’s voice was pained. “No …”

She wanted to leave them to their grief but had to say one more thing. “Her family have been here, that’s how we got your name. They’ve – they’ve decided to withdraw treatment. There’s nothing we can do for her anyway, and physically she’s had some major trauma. But they wanted us to find you first … you meant a lot to her … but the girl you knew, well, I’m sorry, but she’s not in there any more.” Her voice sounded loud in the otherwise quiet room. “I’ll leave you with her for a while.”

The handsome face was frozen, blocked off. He nodded, not taking his eyes from the motionless girl on the bed. She left.

****

Sirius felt unable to move. He stared at the figure on the bed, still breathing but, according to the Healer, nothing else. Somewhere in the distance he heard James’ voice … “Oh, mate, I am _so_ sorry …” … and then Lily’s … “Sirius – we’ll leave you to it for a bit.” They sounded a million miles away. He felt someone squeeze his shoulder sympathetically, and then, back to silence.

He sat down in the solitary chair, still looking at Laura’s motionless form. She looked just like she did when she slept, except for the ugly, yellowing bruise that framed the right side of her face. Automatically he moved a few stray strands of hair away from her nose and mouth.

He couldn’t believe it. Laura couldn’t be gone, she had to be in there somewhere, no matter what the Healer had said. She had to be wrong, there had to have been a mistake. Maybe what was in front of him was a Boggart, rather than it really being Laura. This was certainly his greatest fear, that something would happen to her. It had to be a horrible trick, because the alternative was too awful to contemplate.

He fished inside his robes for his wand, muttering the charm more from false hope than anything else. “ _Riddikulus_.” If this was a Boggart, that should defeat it, even if he didn’t feel remotely like laughing. But no, nothing changed – the girl on the bed didn’t alter at all.

Sirius tried to talk, to call her back from wherever she was, but the words wouldn’t come. Eventually he managed her name, calling frantically, waiting for her eyes to open and that smile to cross her face.

“Laura,” he said, hoping desperately that her eyes would open, that she would move, that anything would happen. “Laura, wake up. I know you’re in there, you have to be in there …” He put his arms around her, pulling her up towards him, waiting for her to stir. “Laura, answer me, wake up! Laura, it’s me, I’m here now, answer me …”

His voice trailed off – she still didn’t move. He tried again. “Laura, come back, you have to come back! Please, Laura, it’s me, it’s Sirius, I came back for you …”

It was the same thing over and over and again as he did everything he could think of to rouse her, but nothing worked. Even when he leaned in to kiss her, there was no movement, no response. Desperately he said her name one last time, his voice now pleading, heartbroken.

“Please wake up, Laura … please …”

His shoulders shaking, he held her to him again, grateful he was alone with her so no one would witness his tears.

Deep down, he knew it was hopeless – the fact she wasn’t responding to him proved that. Even in her deepest sleep there was always some reaction to his touch, whether it was a twitch of the facial muscles, a brief smile, or a sigh as she changed position. But this time there was nothing, not even when he shook her and spoke in her ear. That told him more than anything that the girl he loved wasn’t coming back.

Nothing in the world could be worse than this, nothing had prepared him for it. He had poured his heart and soul into loving her and now it felt like they had been ripped from him, torn in two and discarded. The pain was overwhelming. She had been his reason for coming home, his beacon in what was becoming an increasingly dark world. But that was all over now, there would be no more. No more stumbling through his front door, alone and exhausted, to find she’d arrived a day early and was making a pot of coffee in the tiny kitchen. No more losing himself in her eyes and her arms when what he had seen was almost enough to take away his faith in humanity. No more waking up to the scent of her hair and the warmth of her body next to his. No more of anything that made it all worthwhile.

There was no doubt in his mind that he was responsible for what had happened to her. It was his fault, he should never have stayed away for so long. He should have been there, he could have saved her. He’d made the promise to protect her, and he had failed in the worst possible way.

Tears rolling silently down his face, he dropped to his knees to embrace her one last time, staying there until he could no longer bear her perfect stillness, her lack of reaction to her increasingly wet face and pillow.

As he pulled away, his elbow knocked a box sitting on the floor by the bedside cabinet. Looking inside, he saw her personal belongings – those items she’d had on her when she’d been brought in. Her wand, money pouch, the jewellery he had given her, a small sachet of Floo powder, a handful of owl treats, some odd bits of parchment. He fingered them absent-mindedly – receipts from Madam Malkin’s and Honeydukes, a note from her mum reminding her to pick up some robes she’d had altered, a slightly crumpled photo of him and Laura together. He paused at this, looking at their happy smiling faces, their arms around each other. He had a vague recollection of James taking the picture at the party following their awards day. She must have carried it around with her since. He put it in his pocket, just then needing a memory of those happier times, when she was whole.

The last piece of parchment was bigger than the others, folded over several times. Straightening it out, he saw his own handwriting staring back at him. The last letter he had ever written – or would ever write – to her, dated last Monday. Just before this happened to her … no wonder she hadn’t responded. Gulping slightly, he started to read, desperate for another good memory of what they’d had.

> _11 September ‘78_
> 
> _Dear Laura_
> 
> _Thanks for your letters, they’ve made the past few days easier after hearing from you. I’m not used to us being apart for so long, and frankly I’m finding it much harder than I’d anticipated. Roll on next Saturday when our schedules finally match and I can see you again!_
> 
> _The gang and I are all okay so far in doing our errands for Dumbledore. Only a few days now until we can sign up for the Order officially so we can actually do something constructive about all the awful things that have been going on. (Order Marauders! Prongs and I like the sound of it, but Lily keeps groaning.) Now you’ve got this job I can’t tell you how relieved I am that you’ve agreed to be Dumbledore’s eyes and ears at the Ministry rather than coming out and fighting with us – while I miss you, you’re so much safer there and it means I can sleep soundly at night knowing you’ll be there when I come home._
> 
> _All of that brings me to this – I’m worried about you. Still. They can’t use my family to get to me but they could use you, and no one wants a repeat of what they did to Mary. I can’t imagine the rest of my life without you in it, and if you were hurt I’d never forgive myself. (And then I would find whoever did it and personally tear them limb from limb.) So we really need to talk about this, the best ways to protect you. Dumbledore has some ideas so I’ll talk you through them, but you might come up with something too. Think about it between now and the weekend and we’ll work it out together._
> 
> _Like I said, we should be done by Saturday morning - well, probably Friday evening, but that’s a full moon - so I’ll be with you as soon as I can, bearing gifts and anything else you may be after. I hate being away from you but you know what Dumbledore’s like, the greater good and all that. And it’s not like you haven’t been busy yourself, you probably wouldn’t have much had much time to see me even if I had been around._
> 
> _Until Saturday then!_
> 
> _All my love,  
>  Sirius._

He gave a small smile despite himself. James, who had seen the letter as he was writing it, had expressed concern that the line ‘I can’t imagine the rest of my life without you in it’ might sound a bit like a proposal. Sirius had left it there, not completely sure his subconscious hadn’t intended that in the first place. Maybe she had read it like that. It didn’t matter now anyway.

He looked at Laura’s motionless body once again. Dumbledore had told them to take time to think it through, warning about the potential dangers to friends and family, but he wanted a decision about the Order on the weekend. There had only ever really been one answer, and now there were no other factors to take into account. Sirius leaned in and kissed her again, a steely resolve taking hold of him. He would fight. He would fight to stop this horrible thing happening to anyone else. It was the only way he would get through this now. He had nothing left to lose.

 

FIN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who has read, commented and/or kudos’d this story. I’ve had a lovely time sharing it with you and your feedback has really made a difference in making the story what it is now. I couldn’t have done it without you. 
> 
> There will not be a sequel as such, but I do have a series of one-shots that show aspects of the story from different POVs, and deleted scenes. I'll have a break for a week or two and then start posting that if you're interested.
> 
> Cheers, Mel xxx


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